Drowning in the Music
by deanna37
Summary: Clare is just an average girl who finds herself falling into an odd dimension. One she was not meant to visit. Struggling to find answers, she fears that her very presence will alter the entire story. The Phantom's story. Many tears and secrets are shared. In the end, would it all be worth it?
1. Chapter 1

**I know, there are many other stories with the same idea as this one. Personally, I love these kind of stories. Believe it or not, I originally wrote this for myself in a notebook, based off of another fanfiction! I originally thought it would just be a simple one-shot, but I enjoyed writing this so much, that before I knew it, I wrote over a hundred pages in just two months. This story was inspired by Lost Soul by nibblesfan. I enjoyed reading her stories so much that it inspired me to write this story. If you have not heard of nibblesfan, check out her stories, because they're awesome! I'm also a fan of MonstarzGirl's stories. There were also other stories that inspired me to write, and they are in my favorites if you are interested. I hope you guys enjoy my own version, and I hope you also enjoy nibblesfan's work!**

Chapter 1

I toppled over several times. I kicked and thrashed to break my captivity. The water taunted my lungs that pleaded for air. The water was quite cold, and it felt like it was squeezing my body. Oh, how I would love to breathe in sweet air. . . Panic rose inside me as I helplessly banged my hand on the window. _No! I can't die! Someone help me, please! _ _ Can anyone see that I need help? _

I tried to bash my elbow through the window. I ignored the pain as I desperately tried to escape. The window didn't even budge. _NO! What did I do to deserve this? _My heart originally thumped hard in my chest as my fear grew like a wildfire, but now it began to slow down. I could hear my heartbeat grow slower after each thump. That nauseous feeling twisted in my stomach as I horribly accepted the fact that I was going to die.

_Why me?_

Each heartbeat slowly came after the next. The seconds between each thump increased. I could feel the water filling into my lungs. I weakly pounded my hand on the window, once more. It was my last attempt, and it too, failed. I felt so exhausted. So defeated. So helpless. So _light. _I felt like I was beginning to fade away. Part of me wanted to give in, and die quickly. Although, the other part of me didn't want to accept the idea of death. Not yet. I'm too young to die. . . Although, isn't everyone? Urgh, I could hardly think straight. I felt so light headed.

The water turned darker, and darker. My eyes began to droop. I fought to stay alive, but I felt like I was beginning to drift into the darkness.

_No. Stay alive. . . _I tried to tell myself. I faintly heard the window crack, and then shatter. Something touched my arm, and I swore that I could feel the water move from beneath me. I then gave in, and faded into the darkness.

I had never felt so confused in my entire life. I had never felt so exhausted. . . So, out of it. Was this even real? I felt like I could sleep for eternity. My body almost turned completly numb due to the cold water. Although, that feeling came back. . . Something was touching my upper arms. . . Something warm. It gripped both of my arms. My body grew heavy. I could faintly feel myself being pulled away. The water was slowly drifting, moving from me. . . I began to fade away once more.

I felt like the water was rocking me. Just like how the ocean does. I felt myself drifting, and then returning. I would rise, and then fall. Floating, falling. . . Over and over, in the same order.

I suddenly felt pressure being applied to my chest. I would've cried out in shock, but my voice was caught in my throat. I felt a lot more pressure in my lungs. Something blocked the air from entering into my lungs. I had the urge to exhale so air could enter right afterwards, but something was caught in my lungs. I couldn't feel any air in my lungs. No, instead, I felt something swish in my lungs.

More pressure was added to my chest. It was fairly strong. The liquid moved in my lungs. The liquid began to gurgle in my throat, and then ooze from my mouth. The pressure was added once more, and even more liquid seeped out of my mouth.

I cringed as I felt pain in my chest and lungs. A cough escaped from my throat. Another came after the other. I then sat up, and rolled onto my side in utter panic.

I felt the cold ground touching my skin, as I rolled over. I then went into a fit of coughs. A fountain of water fell from my mouth. All the water slowly drained from my lungs as I threw up mouthful's of water. After each cough, I desperately gasped in air. They were shallow breaths, but the air still felt so nice. I continued to cough, until most of the water was out of my lungs.

Someone patted my back, as they helped me loosen the remaining water that lingered in my lungs. The person stopped patting my back as my coughs began to decrease. I cleared my throat a couple of times, and breathed in more air. I took nice, long breaths. I had thought that I would never taste the sweet air, ever again.

A hand began to gently rub my back in a soothing manner. It felt so nice to know I was _alive_.Although, it was too much for me to take in. Did I almost drown?

I breathed in again, and a sudden pain hit my chest. A cry of pain escaped from my mouth.

"Shh. . ." The voice hushed in a gentle tone. All of this was overwhelming. I almost _died._

Every breath I drew in, caused a sharp pain in my chest. Tears sprang to my eyes. _I almost_ _died!_ I thought once more. The sharp pain repeated after each breath.

"Ow!" I managed to get out. I felt the hand instantly recoil from my back. I opened my eyes finding them clouded with tears. I looked down at my hands that held my body up from the ground. My hands were bruised on the sides, and they bled a little where scraps took place. Part of my wrist and arms stung where I found the skin peeled a little, and blood freshly came out. It wasn't very bad, but it burned a little.

I then realized that someone had just saved my life. . . I couldn't have saved myself. I turned to look at the person who saved my life.

The man was crouched next to me, and remained a few feet away to give me space. His blue eyes were full of concern, and astonishment. His skin was very white, but not as white as this ivory mask that hid half of his face. The mask stuck to the left half of his face. . . Well, I guess it would be considered _his_ right side. He had darker hair, and he wore darker clothing. He. . . He looked a lot like Gerard Butler. . . Well, when Gerard was playing the role of the Phantom in the 2004 movie. . . _But, it can't be him. _I thought. Certainly, it must be someone else, right? Damn, I can't think straight!

The man was breathing hard, as though he just ran a mile. I noticed that half of his body was dripping wet. Did he walk into waste deep water? I sure did look like it. . .

I then looked down at myself, finding myself in a similar state. My entire body was wet. My clothes looked darker in color, and clung to my skin.

I looked back at him. His blue eyes were locked onto my green eyes. I tried to ask what happened, but I couldn't find my voice. The concern in his eyes faded away. His eyes then began to burn into mine.

"What are you doing here?" He asked in a harsher tone. I was a bit taken aback by his tone. What _was_ I doing here? Where am I? I didn't know what to say. I tried to blink away my tears. "I-I. . ." My voice got caught in my throat. My eyes scanned the room as I fathomed where I truly was.

There were many lit candle. . . A lake with a small boat. . . An organ. . . A couple mirrors, and red curtains. . .

Geez, it looked just like the Phantom's lair. Gosh I'm _really_ confused now. . . How did I wined up here? I felt so confused and overwhelmed by everything. Tears silently leaked from my eyes as I helplessly looked back at the man who demanded answers. Answers that I could not explain. I watched as the man's aggravated eyes soften. He looked like he regretted his sudden anger towards me. "Forgive me." He said softly. He closed his eyes and sighed. A sudden chill ran up my spine. I hugged my arms around my body hoping to feel some warmth come from it. I tried my best to stop my chattering teeth, realizing that my attempt of warmth, failed.

The man then stood up. He was quite tall- he towered over me. He held out his gloved hand to me. "Come." He said. I looked at him wary. I studied his eyes to make sure that he wasn't tricking me, and that I could trust him. I looked at his eyes. Then his hand. And back at his lue eyes. He began to look confused. Gosh, I probably look like an idiot. _Get a hold of yourself. He just save your life! Take his hand, Clare! Its not like he has the plague! _I scolded myself inwardly. I shouldn't be afraid of him. . .

I hesitantly reached out, and accepted his hand. The gloves he wore were black, and made from leather. The material felt cool beneath my hand.

He gently pulled me up. As soon as I stood up, my legs fell from under me. Before I could fall onto the cold ground, the man caught me, and picked me up bridle style. My legs felt so stiff, and he picked me up with such ease. I felt my own eyes grow in utter shock when I felt myself being held in his arms. I fought the stupid blush that tried to crawl to my cheeks. I hope he didn't notice. . . I felt our weight shift as he walked with me in his arms.

We then entered into an amazing bedroom. There was a big ruby red swan bed. It looked really soft. There were other accessories in the room, but the bed really stood out. He sat me down onto the edge of the bed. He then walked to a small dresser and dug through them. After a moment of digging, he pulled out a soft material. His boots thumped gently as he approached me with the material folded in his arms. He handed them to me.

"You shouldn't sleep in those wet clothes." He said in a velvet voice. He suspiciously eyed my drenched clothes. He looked at them as if there was something odd about the clothing I wore- other than the fact that it was wet. I awkwardly accepted the material he handed me.

"You should get rest." He said in a low tone.

I looked at the light colored fabric, wary. I unfolded it, finding that it was a nightgown. Oh, makes sense. After all, I can't sleep in wet clothes. I wanted to thank him, but once I tried to meet his gaze, I realized that I was alone. The air was cold around me, as though he had never been there. That or, I was still cold from the wet clothes.

I carefully stood up, finding my legs horribly stiff. I nearly fell again, but I somehow managed stand. I stiffly walked towards the doorway, from where we had entered. I peeked around the corner, making sure he was out in the main room. I didn't want to change in here, with some guy walking around. I saw his figure walking towards a large organ. The organ was surrounded by many candles. The lit candles casted a shadow behind his retreating figure.

Now that I knew it was safe, I quietly draped a red curtain over the doorway. I quickly stripped off my wet clothes, and slipped on the nightgown. There was something about this clothing. . . It was very different. It was a little complicated to get on. It almost seemed like an old fashioned nightgown. . . Well, at least I had dry clothes. It was very nice of that man to offer something for me to wear.

After I had slipped on the nightgown, I laid my wet clothing on top of the dresser. I gently brushed the curtain to the side as I peeked out once again. The man sat at the organ as he played a melody. It sounded so familiar. . . The melody felt so strong and passionate, and it gave me goosebumps. The melody bounced from the walls, filling the entire room with music. His fingers danced over the keys. I would _never_ be able to play a song like that. It would take years of practice. And even then, I don't think I would become anywhere near as good as this man. He played it with such ease, as though it were only a simple melody.

I originally wanted to thank the man for all that he's done. Although, I didn't want to disturb him from his music. He was amazing at playing the organ, and I didn't want him to stop. I then recognized the song. The Phantom of the Opera.

Gently pulling the curtain back in place, I quietly made my way back to the swan bed. I carefully laid down into the bed. It was incredibly soft- I felt myself nearly sinking into it. I blew out the candles next to me, and the room fell dark.

I don't know who this man is, but he was too nice to save my life, _and_ let me sleep there for the night. Although, I couldn't help but to wonder. . . Who was he? A Phantom wannabe? Where was I? My mind was clouded with questions, and I felt too weary to answer them all.

The melody then faded away, and a new one filled the room. It was more soothing, and it was played by a violin. It made my eyelids droop. It sounded so beautiful, and I found myself nearly falling asleep with a smile tugging at my lips. All of the questions that clouded my mind suddenly grew less important at the moment. I could always ask them in the morning. . .

I then recognized the melody. It was the Music of the Night. The feeling of the waves rocking me back in forth took over, as I began to drift. I drifted with the music drowning in my ears.

**Okay, I hope you guys enjoyed it! I'll try to update every weekend, or possibly sooner than that. Please read and review! Thank you for reading!**


	2. Stranger than you dreamt it

**The Phantom of the Opera and lyrics do not belong to me. Just wanted to make that clear! **

**Enjoy!**

My eyes gently fluttered open as a soft tune filled my ears. It was a soft twinkling sound. I rolled onto my right, finding the music box with the monkey in the Persian robes, playing the Masquerade tune. It gently touched the cymbals together, making faint _cling_ sounds.

The memories of last night flooded back into my mind.

"Geez, I thought it was a _dream!_" I whispered to myself. A shiver ran up my spine as I began to remember. . .

I was drowning. . . Then I was saved by this. . _. Phantom. . . _And he was nice enough to let me spend the night. . .

Certainly, he can't be the _real_ Phantom. Pff, the Phantom is a fictional character! So, either I'm crazy, or I was saved by a guy who is obsessed and _wants_ to be the Phantom. . . Well, I must say, he could easily pass off as the Phantom.

I looked at the music box that played Masquerade. The monkey smiled as it continued to play the cymbals. This Phantom guy is probably just a big Phantom fan, and decided to buy a replica, of the monkey playing the cymbals, from e-bay. I didn't know where else you could buy those. . . But, how did it turn on by itself?

I listened as the tune slowly came to an end. After a moment, the monkey remained still. Well, its probably just an alarm clock. How else could it have turned on?

I looked down at the red fabric that was draped over me. Anyone could buy fabric like this. And for the swan shaped bed. . . Well, it was probably expensive, but, more than likely, he bought this too. Its pretty cool, though.

I swung my legs over the bed, and stood up, and stretched. I took a deep breath, and cringed as I felt the left over pain in my chest. It will probably be sore for a day or two. At least I was still _alive_, though. My feet lazily swept over the cold ground. As I brought my hands up to rub my eyes, I noticed white bandages wrapped around my right wrist and hand. Where did it come from? I didn't have this before I went to sleep. . . The memory then hit me.

_I pounded my fist against the window as I desperately tried to break free. . . I could feel bruises taking place on my hand, but I didn't care. . . I wanted nothing more, but to breathe in the sweet air. . . The air that my lung pleaded for. . . I tried to bash my elbow against the window, hoping it would break my captivity. . ._

I stared at the white bandages that was wrapped around my hand and wrist. I tenderly tried to move my fingers beneath the wrap, and I found them throbbing in pain. I knew that underneath the bandages were nasty bruises. Good thing I couldn't see it. . . _Although, I didn't do this. . ._ I thought as I turned my hands as I examined the white bandages. Certainly, it must have been the man who did this. He's the only one here. He must have treated my hand while I was asleep. I don't know how I didn't wake up from that, but it was very kind of him to do that.

I stepped out of the room, as I hesitantly walked out into the main room. I gazed around, taking in all of the details. It looked like an _exact_ replica of the Phantom's lair. It was stunning. I guess I really wasn't imagining things last night. My eyes were correct. They did not deceived me. I felt my green eyes grow as they drank in everything. My eyes fell on the green lake that cradled a small boat. The boat, more than likely was bought. . . Well, some people make their own- but it sounds pretty hard. He could've made it himself. . . Maybe. . .

And the lake. . . I had _no _idea how this Phantom wannabe pulled _that_ off. It was incredible. Well, anyways, the candles made an amazing touch. It made the man's home add glow in a magical way. It looked pretty epic. Epic was the perfect word for it, in my opinion. I wondered if he bought all of these candles. It would be really expensive to buy all of these, but he could've made these, himself. . . You never know. . .

Off to the right, I found the man sitting at his organ, playing the Phantom of the Opera song, once again. My goodness, the organ had to be a lot of money. I had heard before that its extremely hard to play one. This man, however, played a masterpiece, just like from the night before. Goosebumps formed on my arms once I heard the man's voice fill into the room. He even _sounded_ like Gerry in the 2004 movie. He's voice was smooth and velvet. It nearly put me in a daze, as his voice danced in the air as it tangled with the music.

This man also looked just like Gerard Butler, too. So, this man just happened to look _and_ sound like him. . . He more than likely got many voice, organ, and violin lessons, so he could pass off as the Phantom. Then, just to add more, he transformed his house to look identical to the Phantom's lair, so he can swoon the ladies. . . Smart man. . . A little creepy, but very smart. Gosh, his house looked like it was pulled from a romantic movie, or book. Or, pulled from every women's mind, and or, wildest dreams. I think its mainly the candles. . . Its was so romantic, that it was cliche'.

After he was finished with the Phantom of the Opera song, he began to play other songs. A new melody filled the air as his fingers danced over the keys. He would stop every once in a while to write down a new idea for his masterpiece. I then remembered how in the movie and plays, Christine woke up and sang _'I Remember', _and then she went to Erik, and took off his mask out of curiosity. A smile played at my lips as I thought that I should sing that part. Although, my smile instantly vanished as I remembered how I was _horrible_ at singing. For crying out loud, I had to be worse than Carlotta! If I sang, I would end up giving him a heart attack! I would make him go deaf. His ears would at the very _least _bleed. If the real Phantom heard me sing, he would probably kill me, to end his agony.

I watched as the man continued to scribble down more song ideas. I quietly sighed before I hesitantly made my way to the man who was oblivious to me. I had to thank him for saving my life. . . Even if he was a crazy, obsessive, diehard, wannabe Phantom. Lets face it, this man was a big fan of Phantom of the Opera, and he just happened to save my life. . .

I silently approached him. My heart pounded in my chest. I was the kind of person who's shy, and timid around others. I couldn't help but to feel self conscious.

I didn't say a peep, but the man turned to face me with his mask that covered half of his face. I nearly jumped from my skin as he suddenly made eye contact with me. He must had sensed my presence. . . With his white mask facing me, I saw all the details in it that was the exact mold of his face. It was so detailed, that it seemed as though if it were touched incorrectly, it would become ruined. I wanted to say that he more than likely bought the mask, but it was so detailed. . . It wasn't like any other flimsy mask. It was the perfect mold of his face.

I came back to my senses when the man spoke.

"You are awake." His statement almost sounded like a question. I knew that my big green eyes stared back as I felt utterly self conscious. I almost felt like a judge was criticizing my every move. I didn't know why I felt like that. . . It were a though the whole world was staring at me, as it muttered how I screwed up with something.

Remembering his statement, I nodded back at him. I couldn't think of anything to say. Silence fell over us. I felt a blush crawl to my cheeks as he continued to stare at me. I couldn't help but to blush when someone stared at me. It was so awkward, and it nearly drove me insane with embarrassment.

"My goodness, you are quite silent for your age." He admitted. I couldn't help but to wonder if that was an insult. My face must have said it all, because he then added in: "Do not be alarmed, child. There is nothing wrong about silence."

Honestly, I didn't know what to say. I painfully found myself only nodding back at his statement. After several seconds of silence he began to look confused.

"Do you ever speak?" He asked looking a little irritated. His tone hit a nerve in me. I wasn't sure if I was mainly hurt, or a little aggravated. Geez, first he says there's nothing wrong with the silence, and then he gets irritated when I remain quiet? Gosh, I don't understand him.

_"Yes." _I snapped back. "I do speak. Many others think that I'm a very quiet person, but once they get to know me, I never shut up." I said bluntly.

The man at first looked a little taken aback. Although, after a moment, he began to look intrigued. "Mademoiselle, you have quite a deep, yet soft voice. . . I assume that you have a lovely voice for singing." He finally said. I felt my eyes nearly pop out of my head as he said that. That's. . . Quite a compliment, I must say.

"No. Not at all." I responded still a bit shocked. I saw his visible eyebrow furrow in confusion. "What do you mean?" He questioned. Memories of middle school flooded into my mind.

"Well. . ." I sighed. "Some others were harsh, and taunted me because of my _'odd' _voice." I explained. "Well, it was odd to their ears. . ." I added in. I sadly looked down at my feet. _Stupid kids from middle school. . . _I thought.

"It may be odd to _their_ ears. But its music to many others." He suddenly said. "The world is harsh." He spat. "Unlike others, you have nothing to be ashamed of." He growled, mainly to himself. Was I really hearing this? Does he really think he's the only one who deals with rude people? "What do _you_ have to be ashamed of?" I asked, already doubting the answer that I knew lurked in his mind. I already knew his obvious answer. He was wrong though. He's not anywhere near as ugly as he claims.

His head snapped back up to look at me. His blue eyes intensely stared into mine. It felt as though his eyes were piercing through my soul. They were so powerful. "You do not know me." He said from his gritting teeth. Seeing the believable anger in his eyes, I nearly forgot that I was talking to a man who only wanted to be the Phantom. I shook my head lightly. I almost forgot, I had to thank him. . .

"Thank you, for saving me." I said to him. The man suddenly froze. He looked dumbfounded as though he fathomed over my words. The look in his eyes made me wonder if he had ever heard those words before. He was completely silent for a minute or two.

"You are welcome. . ." He finally said, as he slowly turned back towards the music sheets. For a moment, I thought his eyes became a little glassy. I brushed it off when I thought I was simply seeing things. He picked up his pen to continue with his music.

"Although, I was wondering. . ." He stopped to look at me as he heard me speak. "What really happened?" I asked. He pressed his lips into a straight line, as he pondered how to start. " I-I found you in my lake." He gestured towards the lake behind us. "You were not moving, and I thought you had drowned. Although, I decided to fetch you from the water, anyways. You are very lucky that I had found you when I did." He explained.

I rubbed my chest, near my collar bone, remembering how he had pushed my chest, doing CPR. "Forgive me, I was doing my best to save your life. Your chest and lungs may be sore for a couple of days." He added in, once he saw my gesture. "I did not injure you, did I?" He asked a little concerned. I shook my head. "Don't worry about it. You saved my life. I have no words to express how joyful I am for you help." I meant every word. The man gently smiled at my words, as he continued to write. "How did you get here?" He suddenly asked, dropping his smile without removing his eyes from the music notes.

I knew he would ask sooner or later. _I might as well come out with it. _I thought.

"I, I don't know." I admitted. "I think my car drove into a lake. . ." I mused. He was originally writing, but he then stopped. "A. . . What?" He asked as he put his pen down. He looked really confused. "A car." I repeated assuming that he simply didn't hear me. I began to question my own opinion as I saw how his eyes continued to hold confusion. My original opinion grew a little weaker when I saw his eyes that fathomed over my words. "You know. . . A _car._ It's what we drive. . ." I began to explain. His expression didn't change. "To different places. . ." I added in. He looked at me as though I grew a second head. I felt so stupid, and began to regret bringing it up. I then decided to change the topic.

"Well, this is quite an impressive home you got." I said as my eyes scanned the room.

"Thank you." He said, seeming to shake off the previous topic, as well. I nodded as I looked around, admiring his home. "So, you must be a real fan of Phantom of the Opera." I finally stated. He then stopped writing once more. His entire body stiffened. He looked at me astonished. "I. . . I wrote it. . . How did you know the song?" He asked as he cautiously looked over his written work. He flipped through the previous written masterpieces. He then eyed me warily. "Did you read this?" I noticed that he was holding up a paper that was titled:

_The Phantom of the Opera._

My eyes grew upon seeing the title. I knew he was writing, but I didn't think I would see the music sheet for that song_. Did he really write all of these?_ I thought as my eyes fell onto the stack of papers on the organ. This Phantom wannabe had _everything! _He even had the sheets. Maybe he printed them off the computer, because it looked like a lot to write. I shook my head at him. "No. I didn't read those."

_And I wouldn't be able to- I don't understand the music notes_. I pointed out, inwardly. The guy looked at me suspiciously. After a moment or two, he went to what he was originally writing. He went ahead, and dismissed the odd and misunderstood topic. He simply let it slip by without an further questions. He continued adding more music notes that I couldn't make sense of. My eyes widened when I realized that it was _his_ hand writing- so he couldn't have copied it off the computer. . . And he wrote it as though they simply came to mind. "But what I was originally saying, is, that you must really love Phantom of the Opera. I mean, you home is done up to look like the Phantom's lair. You have the mask and clothing. . . The music- hell, even the music _sheets!_" I pointed out, as I gesturing to what he was writing.

For the thousandth time, he hesitantly stopped writing, and sat down his pen to look at me He looked astonished, but more so confused. "I'm sorry?" He asked not seeming to get it. Our misunderstood topic seemed to smack him across the face once more, with more information that he didn't seem to process correctly in his mind.

He must had not heard me. Figures. I'm too quiet anyways.

"Well, what I'm saying is, you have quite an impressive house!" I marveled as I looked around. "It looks just like the Phantom's lair in the 2004 Phantom of the Opera movie! I'm a big fan of it too, I also love the music. My favorite song is Music of the Night." I continued to ramble on.

"I never got to see any of the broad way show's, sadly. But, I personally like the movie's version more. I haven't read the book yet. . . Maybe one day I will." I shrugged.

The man was dead silent. He looked even more astonished and confused than before. I saw my information trying to process in his brain, but kept coming up blank. He looked just like me, when I'm sitting in math class. Math is Greek to me. His astonished and confused expression began to fade away. Instead, he began to look concerned. A slight amount of confusion lingered in his eyes, but the concerned emotion stood out the most. He pressed his lips into a straight line.

"Mademoiselle, perhaps you should go and rest some more. You may still be confused from last night." He said, trying to urge me to do so. I felt like I had been slapped. _What? _He thought I was confused? Or did he just think I was crazy? I stubbornly shook my head at him. "No, I'm not confused at all. I'm fine." I reassured. He gave me a funny look like he didn't want to believe me.

"We all get confused at times." He calmly argued. Why wouldn't he listen to me? I was perfectly fine! "You should lie back down." He added in. Man, why wouldn't he believe me? I felt my anger bubble up inside. "I'm fine!" I snapped back. "I'm _not_ insane- I'm perfectly fine!" I argued back, feeling insulted. He tried to say something, but I cut him off before he could start.

"You think _I'm_ insane." I scoffed. "And you probably bring girls here to make them swoon over your incredible home, while you sing Music of the Night to them- which really makes them swoon over you- and you probably do that to get them in bed with you!" As soon as it left my lips, I regret it. _Where did all of __**that**__ come from? _I questioned myself. For that one moment, words had slipped from my mouth, that I hadn't even _thought_ of. Oh my gosh, my anger had really gotten the best of me. I saw anger flash in his eyes.

"No. I'm not saying you're insane." He growled. "And women most certainly do _not_ look at me like that." He said harshly referring to the statement of women swooning over him. _What? Because of your face? _I thought.

Well, he didn't understand. Even with a scarred face, I absolutely loved Erik. I had felt pity for him. So, why is he judging himself? No one should judge themselves. Rarely do you ever see someone with a great, positive, self confidence. Just about everyone feels self conscious. . . Unless you're Carlotta.

If this man was the real Phantom, then I would've felt more pity, and sympathy. Once again, I realized that I had almost completely forgotten that I was talking to a Phantom/Erik wannabe. I felt foolish for almost believing him. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Please. You're not even the '_Opera Ghost'_. I know you're not the Phantom!" I accused. His eyes bubbled with anger. "You don't know who you are talking to!" His voice was dripping with venom. I could hear the anger clinging tightly to his words. I then felt a devious idea hit me. "Oh, _really?" _I sneered. "Cut the stupid act. I know you're just a Phantom wannabe. I bet you _bought_ that mask!" I pointed at his white mask. "And I bet you don't even have a scar." I reached over to pull off his mask. He instantly snached my wrist before my fingers could even graze his mask.

"Don't." He growled. His eyes were seething with anger, but I saw the wild and serious look in his eyes. If looks could kill, I would have been dead. I narrowed my eyes once more, trying to fight my way past his irritating anger. "I told you to cut the act- I know you're not the Phantom!" I used my free hand to grab the mask. He tried to grab a hold of my hand to stop me, but he didn't catch me in time. By then, my fingers wrapped around the edges of the mask, and I pulled it off with one tug.

A gasp escaped from my lips. Not out of fear, but just astonishment. It looked so real. There were many blotchy spots on the side of his face, and blisters. His bottom eyelid looked pulled down, revealing most of his eye. The side of his lip, and the bottom corner of his nose had blisters. His face looked burnt.

It. . . It was _real_. I began to shake in fear as I realized what I just did. _He- He's real. _

_No, get a hold of yourself, Clare! _I told myself, utterly panicked. I-It could just be makeup. . . But, then again, it was so detailed. . . It had to be real.

His hand flew up to cover his exposed face. He roughly threw me down onto the ground. My hands tried to catch myself, but failed. I felt my shoulder and hip crash into the ground first. I felt nasty bruises take place on the side of my body. The wind was knocked out of me. I struggled to catch my breath, as the pain shot through my chest, reminding me of the accident from last night. I cringed in pain.

_"Damn you!" _His voice boomed. "You little prying Pandora!" The man yelled. "You little demon! This is what you wanted to see?" In a fit of rage, he paced to the mirror that was covered by a red sheet. He tore it down. He only glanced at himself for a second. Instantly repulsed by his own face, his hand flew up, to cover it once more. He snapped back into his fit of rage.

"Curse you! You little lying Delilah! You little viper!" He spat at me. "Now you cannot ever be free!" His voice was overwhelmed with anger and betrail. He walked away from me in overwhelmed frustration. "Damn you!" He harshly shoved a candle stick over. I heard it clatter on the ground.

"Curse you. . ." He breathed out in anger. . . The anger he wasn't sure how to deal with. He grew silent. I sat up, looking at him from a distance. For a moment I thought that all of his steam was gone, but I then remembered the scene from the movie. This was where he sang _'Stranger than you dreamt it'. _For the first time in my entire life, I was actually afraid of him. I always thought that he simply needed someone to be there for him. But how could I if he suddenly acted violent? Wouldn't you be scared too? Silence filled the air, while I waited for him to continue to say his dreadful words.

"Stranger than you dreamt it," He began to sing. "Can you even dare to _look_," He arched an eyebrow in an overwhelmed angered way, as he turned to face me. With his hand still hiding the right side of his face, his face twisted with many emotions. For a moment, it looked as though he was about to laugh off his anger in a threatening like way. It were as though he had been taunting my foolish actions.

"Or bear to think of me. . . This loathsome _gargoyle_, who burns in hell, but secretly yearns for heaven, secretly, secretly. . ." He paced around the room as his words grew in a softer tone. His words became sadder by the moment. He turned to look at me with despair in his eyes. His fingers were gently stretched over his face, refusing to reveal his face.

"Fear can turn to love," He began to walk towards me. "You'll learn to see, to find the man," He crouched down to my level. He looked anxious for me to understand his dreading. He stared at me, not tearing his pleading eyes from mine.

"Behind the monster of this. . ." He sat down on one of the steps. He was almost rocking himself, trying to calm down. "This _repulsive carcass, _who seems a beast, _but_ secretly dreams of beauty. . ." His voice began to waver as he tried not to break down. "Secretly, secretly. . ." He said softly. He looked so betrayed.

At first, I thought I saw silent tears running down his face, but I must have been imagining things. He remained silent, as I watched how his chest rose and fell as he tried to recover from the outburst. I could see how his heart was practically sinking in despair. Pity in himself. My goodness, he was a miserable wreck. I know that Christine never bothered to do anything. . . Maybe I could. . . This man didn't deserve this unbearable depression that weighed him down. If people treated him like a normal person, then certainly, he would have a happier life. This poor man grew up thinking he's the devil's child. His face does not make him a monster. . . But everyone around him have made him think otherwise.

"You don't have to dream of beauty. . ." I said softly. "Because you already contain so much beauty- more than you'll ever realize. . ." I told him. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. Tears seeped from my eyes, as I felt a tender sensation well in my heart as I told him this. He turned to look at me. He didn't remove his hand, but he still looked at me with many emotions in his eyes. His eyes were glassy.

"I contain more evil, than you will ever realize. . ." He said quietly, as his voice quivered. Devastation gripped tightly to his words. I felt a string to my heart being pulled. This poor man needed to be comforted. My mind wouldn't doubt that he hadn't even been _hugged_ before. He needed someone to care for him. I could only imagine the desperate longing of love and care that his heart pleaded for throughout the years. Was it too much to ask? I couldn't stand the sight of seeing this poor man suffer in the darkness alone. Were people really this blind? Could they _not_ see that he only needed someone to care? It was perfectly clear in my mind. I scooted closer to him, deciding that I would aid his scarred heart.

He still breathed heavy as he tried to calm his own heart. He fought will all of his strength, not to break down into a sob. I could see in his eyes how he struggled to contain the overwhelmed devastation in his heart. He was fighting tears, as they glimmered in his eyes. I gently touched his arm. He flinched when I made contact, but he settled back down. "What? You think you're a monster because of your face?" I whispered.

He looked at me from the corner of his eye. Silence filled the air once again. Deciding not to bother to explain, he looked away in shame. I could see that it deeply pained him to let pity and hate cloud his mind once more. . . It was unbearable for him. It was all too familiar. His heart helplessly fell back into a cold dark unforgiving world, where it would lurk from then on. That is, unless a light came to rescue him. . .

"You are _only_ a monster if you let yourself act like one. . . Your face doesn't have anything to do with it." I carefully reached over to touch his face. I gently touched his jaw, motioning him to look at me. He turned his gaze, meeting my tearstained eyes. He refused to drop his hand from his face. Tears glistened in his eyes. They were on the verge of spilling over. I touched his bare hand that still tried to hide his face. I tenderly pressed my hand over his, as I cupped his face.

"Surely, you must not be a monster if you saved my life. . ." I said softly. He sniffed. "Surely I _must_ be a monster if I've killed others. . ." He tried to point out. I shook my head at him. I felt a few tears run down my face, upon hearing his words.

"If you hate the person you see in the mirror, you can always change." I whispered. "Have a change of heart." I added in, quietly. It almost sounded like a plead to my own ears. I watched as his lip trembled.

"Let me see." I gestured towards his face, that he hid behind his hand. "I frightened you earlier." He tried to say. He looked like he dreaded to show me his face once more. But, he had to realize there was nothing to be afraid of. "No, you didn't. I was only shocked that it was real. But you face does _not_ scare me. You only scare me when you lose control." I said with a soothing tone.

He looked at me with nervous eyes. He took a couple of deep breaths and closed his eyes. He looked very unsure. "I promise, I'm not afraid of your face" He was silent, deep in thought. His eyes remained closed. "Trust me. . ." I whispered. He drew in another breath, and released it. "Alright. . ." He said with a trembling voice. He took a couple more breaths, before he hesitantly removed his hand away from his face. He closed his eyes.

His face was just as it was before. . . It wasn't even that bad. He was still beautiful. I gently touched his face. His eyes snapped open upon feeling my touch. I thought he would flinch, or retreat, but he stayed put. "You're not ugly." I whispered as I cupped his scarred face. I gently rubbed my thumb over his cheek bone. Yes, it was all real. It wasn't makeup, since the scar didn't rubbed off. I was touching his real flesh. I continued to tenderly rub my thumb on his cheek, in a soothing manner.

A smile began to form on his lips. I felt something wet touch my thumb. I then saw tears spill from his eyes. One of them, softly touched my hand. More tears ran down his face, leaving behind their moist trails on his skin. They were tears of joy. He smiled back at me. He gently touched my hand that graced his cheek.

"Thank you. . ." He whispered as he closed his eyes to enjoy the sensation.

**Chapter two is finished! Ah, that took a while to type. In my notebook, this was a originally 30 pages. On here, it's only 14 pages. I hope you guys liked it! Thank you for the review's guys! It means a lot to me!**

**Please read and review!**


	3. Lost

**Aww, thank you so much for the reviews! It means a lot to me! Remember, this was originally just a story that I wrote for myself. And I'm so happy that you guys enjoy it so far. J **

**Phantom-of-the-Opera-Phan- **Thank you for being my first reviewer! I'm glad that you like the story so far!

** Zombitude**- Haha, glad you like it!

**Tinkerbellpatten**- I'm glad that you liked how I pointed out how Erik is emotionally scarred as well. Hope you like the story so far!

**MonstarzGir**l- Aww, thank you!

**RaminsBiggestPhan**- Glad you like it!

**The Phantomess 99**- Wow, thank you! I haven't read any of the Poto from the book version here on fanfic yet. I'll have to check into it soon! But I'm glad that you really like this story so far! Thank you!

**Thank you again for all of the reviews! **

**I do not own Phantom of the Opera or its music. *Pouts* Oh well. . .**

**But my OC is owned by me.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

I watched as Erik sat down at his organ. I was tired of always thinking of him as _The Phantom_. I knew his name was Erik. Although, he didn't know this. I would address him by his actual name, but I didn't want to put him in utter shock. I had to be the only one who knew his name. And if he found out that I already knew his name, then he would demand answers. Answers that I could not explain at the moment. . .

"I still think your voice is intriguing." He said without turning around. "I would love to hear you sing. Would you join me?" He asked, motioning me to sit with him.

I felt utterly confused. He wanted to hear _me_ sing? What did this man eat this morning? My mind was unwilling, instantly refusing to sing. Although, my legs moved, bringing me closer to the bench next to the organ. The nervous feeling twisted in my stomach along with fear. I know that he won't like my singing skills.

I hesitantly sat down next to him. My eyes felt huge. "I'm horrible at singing." I blurted out.

I heard him chuckle a little. "Well, I can help you improve." He offered. I stubbornly shook my head. "No, you don't understand. I'm worse than Carlotta!" I cried out, feeling utterly paranoid. By this point, Erik was laughing even harder. I had never heard him laugh, and it nearly put me in a daze. It sounded musical. It made my breath hitch in my throat.

"Mademoiselle, no one is as bad as Carlotta." He said putting a hand on my shoulder. "And I can always work with your voice." He reassured.

I sighed. _He's gonna wake up to a rude awakening. . _. I thought. "What should I sing?" I said dryly, giving in. He was quiet for a moment as he thought.

"What you wish to sing." He finally said not thinking of anything special. His answer made me realize what a wide option I had.

Music of the Night was my favorite. But, it would just be _wrong_ if I sang it. I know I had a deeper voice for a girl, but it would never be the same if I sang it. I would ruin it with my own voice. No way was I going to sing The Point of No Return. It would be embarrassing. . . Plus, it was not written for me. I would sing The Phantom of the Opera, but I don't want to sing for very long. I want to sing something short- so I can get it off my chest quicker. . . I then thought of the perfect song. I cleared my throat a little, and took a deep breath.

"Angel of Music, speak, I listen, stay by me side, guide me. . ." I tried my best to sound like Christine, by making my voice sound higher. "Angel, my soul was weak, forgive me, enter at last, master. . ." It sounded perfect to my ears. I sounded just like Christine- I was proud of it. I turned to look at Erik.

At first, he looked so shocked. His blue eyes grew in horrid astonishment. I then realized what I just sang. It made my own eyes grow. Oh no, Christine sang that in the plays, and movies. Now he would question how I knew this song. _Shit. Way to go, Clare. _I thought inwardly.

I watched as Erik's astonishment slowly faded away. He warily let it brush by. He then pressed his lips into a straight line, as he thought. I felt my hope vanish right then. He obviously didn't like my singing as I did. . . I knew I would turn out embarrassing myself. Well, at least he wasn't demanding how I knew the song. . .

"You are forcing your voice to sound higher. You are trying too hard." He said with his beautiful velvet voice. A small frown pulled at my lips as I looked away from him. My cheeks burned from embarrassment. "Oh." I managed to say. I tried to push away my disappointment, by distracting myself with the white bandage that was wrapped around my wrist.

"You don't need a higher voice to make it beautiful." He said.

"But girls do." I mumbled.

"You have an exotic voice for someone like you. I find it intriguing. It releases more passion and true beauty with the music, if you do not force it to sound different." He said with his velvet voice. I looked up at him with my big green eyes.

"You. . . You have no idea how much that means to me. Insolent kids were harsh to me, and made me look at myself through _their_ eyes. I've grown up despising my voice, because of them." I said softly. Using the word _insolent_ felt so odd. I was only using the few somewhat older words that I thought Erik might've known, so he could understand me. And of course, insolent just happened to be one of the words that I remembered from the movie. See? Movies can be educational!

"They simply do not know true beauty. That is their own loss." He said in a soothing tone.

This was all so ironic. I gave him a bewildered look. Was he really saying this? _The Phantom? The Opera Ghost? The Erik?_ _Christine's Angel of Music?_ Did those words really come from him? It was so. . Not like him. By then, I was just about positive that it was something that he ate that caused him to act differently.

"Is something wrong, mademoiselle?" He asked in a concerned tone. I continued to stare at him with utter shock in my eyes.

"I can't believe those words are coming from you. . . You say that my voice is exotic, because it's different. In my own opinion, exotic is beautiful, and surely, you must think the same as well. Yet, you seem to forget that you are exotic as well. People called you different, but really, that means that you're only exotic."

The words flew right from my mouth before I could stop them. I found that the words came straight from my soul. They seemed like they came from a romantic poem, but really, it came from my heart. Erik stared at me with wide eyes. His mouth was ajar, and he didn't even blink. He looked frozen. He stared at me in awe. He stared at me for several moments, not tearing his eyes away. His eyes searched mine, trying to find more answers. I felt like he was reading my thoughts just by gazing into my soul. He stared at me as though I were the center of the universe. His stare was so intense, that it felt like every person on earth gawked at me. Many pair of eyes facing me, like I'm an animal at a zoo. Yet, he was the only one with me. Just the two of us. How could I pair of eyes be _that_ powerful?

I shifted nervously in my spot. A blush crawled to my cheeks as he stared. "And exotic is beautiful in its own way. . ." I squeaked nervously. He leaned in closer, not tearing his eyes away. His eyes continued to looked down at me, like I was far away, yet he was right next to me. He was a head taller- he towered over me, which made him feel far away.

He then went back to his original position, backing away from me slightly. He looked back down at his music notes. The warm feeling that surrounded my body vanished and left me in the cold air once he backed away from me. I felt slight disappointment as he backed away, and the coldness invaded the warmth. I brushed off my slight disappointment as Erik spoke.

"That, was quite an impressive speech you gave." He finally said, as he looked at me from the corner of his eye. "It was. . ." He pondered. "Beautiful." He added in. I hadn't realized that I was holding my breath. I quietly breathed in air, feeling breathless.

"T-Thank you." I squeaked. Erik simply nodded.

"Well, as I was saying mademoiselle, is don't strain your voice. . ." He explained. I nodded. "Okay. . ."

"All right. Shall we try again?" He asked. I nodded once more. He cleared his throat, and this time, he took the lead.

"Insolent boy!" I nearly leaped from my skin, as he sang. "This slave of fashion, basking in your glory. . . Ignorant _fool!"_ He spat. "This brave young suitor, sharing in _my_ triumph!" he sang in a dangerous yet amazing voice. He then turned to look at me, motioning that it was my turn. This time, I tried to sing with my normal voice.

"Angel, I hear you, speak, I listen. . ." It sounded so wrong to my own ears, but I continued anyways. "Stay by my side, guide me. . . Angel my soul was weak, forgive me. . ." I nearly cringed when I replaced the beautiful higher pitch of Christine's voice with my own deep voice. "Enter at last, master. . ." I sang. I half expected Erik to stop from there, but I was wrong.

"Flattering child you shall know me. . . See why in shadow I hide. . "His voice was so smooth and gentle. "Look at your face in the mirror. . . I am there inside!" He sang with excitement pouring from his voice. I instantly picked up the next line.

"Angel of Music, Guide and guardian, grant to me your glory!" I sang loudly, but also tried not to strain my voice. "Angel of Music, hide no longer, come to me, strange angel. . ." I tried to sing with passion, trying not to over-do-it at the same time. Erik easily picked up the next line.

"I am your Angel of Music. . . Come to me, Angel of Music. . ." He sang with a beautifully deep velvet voice. It sounded so mesmerizing, yet so frightening, dangerous, and mind controlling.

"I am your Angel of Music. . . Come to me, Angel of Music. . ." I nearly melted as he sang. I could see why Christine was easily mind controlled by his voice. I almost felt like I was being mind controlled. . .

His voice was so haunting. . . His voice bounced off the walls, and his echo's harmonized his own voice. It sent a shiver up my spine, and goosebumps formed on my arms. Erik closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and released it, as though he was enjoying himself.

"Don't you enjoy the sensation that you get when you sing?" He asked in his velvet voice.

"Yes, but I usually sing when no one else is around." I admitted.

"Well, you can always sing with me." He responded to my shy remark. I felt my heart left when he said that. He wants me to sing with him? "You, _liked_ my singing?" I asked in disbelief. He smiled at me. He almost looked amused by my shocked face. "Yes, I do. It will need a little bit of practice, but it is getting better."

I felt my face light up when he said that. Yes! I wasn't horrible! Thos stupid kids were wrong about me. I never should've listened to them.

We practiced singing all day. We worked with my voice, and he showed me how to make my voice higher without going off key. Although, I was mainly just interested in hearing Erik sing. Whenever he would reach a dramatic or emotional part in the song, he would raise his voice louder with so much passion, and I could easily drown in it. I loved how his voice would echo throughout the lair. . .

"Perhaps we could continue this tomorrow." He said in an almost question like tone.

"Yes, we should." I agreed. I yawned, realizing that it was probably midnight. Erik gracefully stood up from the bench. Without any further words, he walked into another room. I assumed it was another bedroom that he was using. I stiffly stood up from the bench, and stretched from hours of sitting. I made my way to the bedroom with the swan bed. On my way there, I saw something in the corner of my eye. I turned to my head to the left so see _Christine_ standing there. I wasn't expecting to see someone else in Erik's lair. I nearly jumped from my skin. Even if it was only Christine, she startled me.

Before I could stop myself, a cry of shock escaped from my lips. I was utterly shocked. I instantly felt stupid once I realized that it was only her. It was Christine with a pleasant smile on her face. Her curly brown hair was pulled away from her shoulders. She was in the white wedding dress and vale.

My breath then hitched in my throat. My heart skipped a beat.

No. That's not Christine. . . I then realized that I was looking at the wax figure of Christine that Erik had made. It was not Christine at all. It was just a wax figure.

"Oh my gosh." I whispered to myself. It looked so _real. _It was actually horrifying, of how real it was. I honestly thought it was her, but it was just a wax figure wearing a wedding dress. Every detail of Christine was there.

"Mademoiselle, what's wrong?" Erik asked with panic in his voice. He hastily rushed to me.

"I heard you scream." His blue eyes were wide with concern. By the time he reached me, he was breathing a little heavy. I wasn't sure if he was breathing heavy from rushing to me, or from utter panic. I looked into his eyes once he reached me. What could I say?

_'Oh, I cried out in shock because I saw this wax figure of Christine, you obsessed creep!' _I sneered inwardly. No, I couldn't say that. Sure, it's really creepy to have a wax figure of her, but he does love her. So in a way, it's sweet . . . But creepy.

Honestly, what could I tell him? _'Oh, I didn't scream. I sneezed.' _Yeah, it was a stupid thought.

"Oh, I-I'm fine!" I stuttered out. I felt like an idiot as he stared at me, telling me to continue. I nervously turned to look at the wax figure. My head snapped back to look at his questioning glance.

He looked at me for a moment, and then followed my eyes that lead to the Christine wax figure. Realization seemed to snap in his brain, as he began to put together my reasons of screaming earlier. It was almost as though a light bulb appeared above his head.

I tried my best to explain before he would say anything else. "Um- I-I was just. . . A bit shocked to see this," I gestured towards the wax figure.

"It looks so real- I honestly thought it was Christine." I rambled, not bothering to come up with a good excuse. I wasn't sure if I was frightened, or simply embarrassed. Either, way, it made my heart thump, and I felt sweat forming at my forehead. Erik stared at me for a while. He continued to stare until I felt my cheeks flush. He still seemed a little taken aback from my scream, and my excuse.

After saying Christine's name, his blue eyes were filled with amazement, and curiosity. Once I said her name, regret stung me. Great, more answers for me to answer. _Good going. . ._ What will he think of me now?

"You know Christine?" He furrowed his eyebrows at me. Urgh, I knew he would ask. All because of my comment. I tried to think of something to say. Before I could, he interrupted my thoughts.

"Oh, of course. . ." He said upon realizing something. "Certainly, you must know Christine from her work. . ?" He questioned, referring to her opera singing. Wow, he just saved me from many questions. Usually, I don't lie. . . I guess I wouldn't be- after all, I do know her for her singing. But of course, that's not the only reason why I know her. I know her from being in The Phantom of the Opera. But, this would just have to do. . .

"Yes. Absolutely. She has quite a lovely voice." I agreed, playing along. He seemed oblivious to my secrets, so my statement must have been believable. I was worried that he would see right through me. Lucky for me, I was convincing.

His gaze went back to the wax figure. I listened to the sound of his boots quietly thump on the ground as he took a step or two closer to it. He carefully took the vale into his hands, as he gently felt the vale's material. He used his thumb to gently brush it. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, and slowly released it. His expression was hard to interpret. It looked like a mix of many things. Depression. Weary. Perhaps he was closing his eyes as he remembered a nice sensation? Or, was he. . . Ashamed of something? It was difficult to read just one emotion. His face had softened, but his eyes were mixed with all different kinds of emotions.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, finding my voice just barely above a whisper. I really just want to give the guy a hug. He was silent. His expression didn't change- he didn't even look away from the wax figure. I decided to be patient, thinking that maybe a tender or sore topic was on his mind. I waited for a moment. I took half breaths, not wanting him to hear my normal deep breaths. I began to feel guilty, thinking that it was stupid of me to ever ask what was wrong. I shouldn't intrude like that. It wasn't any of my business. Well, maybe he never heard me. It might be as simple as that, and that's why he hadn't answered. I liked that sound of that- then I wouldn't have to feel guilty for asking such a stupid question. Before I could jump to anymore conclusions, Erik interrupted my thoughts.

"I made this." He suddenly said.

I tried my best to make my amazement look believable. Although, if I was surprised by anything, it was that he said it out of the blue. I raised my eyebrows in an amazed or surprised look. I looked at him with my big green eyes.

"Oh my goodness." I choked out.

"I-It looks so real." I said in awe. I saw him half smile, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. His blue eyes looked sad. "It's amazing." I added in, hoping that it would lighten his mood. He turned to look at me. He flashed a sad smile. "Thank you." He said quietly. His sad light blue eyes tugged at my heart. My heart sank a little. Gosh, I hate to intrude, but I felt like I had to help him.

"Is something wrong?" I asked once more.

I saw this temples twitch as he clenched his jaw. He turned to look at me with a harden face. His once sad eyes, suddenly flashed anger. I felt like I shrunk under his burning eyes. He seemed to tower over me. I felt small and weak under his gaze.

_"No." _He growled. "Why must you intrude?" He said harshly. I felt like he had shot my heart. He said it almost word for word from my mind. I knew I shouldn't have intruded. It was rude of me.

"I-I'm sorry. I-I didn't want to intrude. But y-you seemed s-so sad." I stuttered nervously. My apology felt so useless or even pathetic. "Why should you care?" He questioned bluntly. I could see that he was being defensive over something. He felt threatened, and now he had slipped on his emotional mask. And the mask he used to defend for himself was anger.

_Good work_. . . I thought. _You just had to ask him that stupid question, and now he's mad. Congratulation, you just flipped the switch. _I sneered on the inside. I felt so guilty. I looked into his glaring eyes, and I couldn't help but to think that I was a little afraid of him. I just angered the Opera Ghost.

"I-I'm sorry! To be honest, I feel really bad for you s-since what happened to y-you when you were a child –"

I froze in mid sentence. My eyes grew in horror when I realized what I had said. The truth had slipped from me. _Now he knows that I know about his past. _I thought horrified. A past that no one was supposed to know about. I screwed up. How did the truth slip so easily?

I tried to ramble on, hoping that he would forget about the truth I had slipped. I prayed that he didn't catch on. "You shouldn't be so sad since you're always- err, I mean you _seem_ sad a lot! And I just wanted to help. . ." My voice trailed off when I realized two things.

First, Erik stared at me in horrid shock, but was then replaced by shaking rage.

Second, my excuse was stupid but oddly true at the same time. Although, the more I tried to explain, the more I realized that I kept slipping the truth.

I felt so stupid. And so guilty. Erik's eyes had widened in shock _and_ anger. His body began to shake in rage. I nervously watched his hands clench. I knew that under his black leather gloves, his knuckles were white as he tightened his grip. His blue eyes burned into my scared green eyes. His nostrils flared a little. His breaths were unsteady. Each breath he drew in were sharp. And each breath came out as a huff with anger.

"How did you know?" He growled with venom dripping in his voice.

By then, I felt like I shrunk even more as he towered over me. His tall figure casted a shadow over me. "Know w-what?" I lied helplessly, trying to keep my honest image. I knew he could see through me, though. I wanted to keep my cover, but it was pointless, now.

"My past!" I jumped when his voice boomed through his lair. His voice echoed and bounced off the walls. My eyes burned. I felt my body start to tremble, and my heart was racing. Gosh, he really was scary. His temper really got the best of him. What could I tell him? What would he think when I told tell him the truth?

"I-I know a l-lot about you." I squeaked. It was the only thing I could think of.

"What else do you know about me?" He demanded. He took a step closer to me, until only a foot separated us. His eyes continued to burn into mine. He didn't even blink. It was as though he dangerously monitored my every move, like a cat before it attacks its prey. My breath hitched in my throat. _Should I tell him the truth? What would he do? What would he think?_ I thought. I helplessly stared back at him.

"Answer me!" He demanded impatiently. I had no choice- I was cornered and I had to tell the truth. I closed my eyes in shame, knowing I would regret telling him. But, he wanted to know. I guess his wish was granted. The tone he was using with me, suddenly made anger bubble inside me. I wanted to scold him. _Don't talk to me like that_. I growled inwardly.

_"Fine!_" I shouted back. My louder tone sounded so unfamiliar to my own ears. Erik looked taken aback by my sudden anger. He looked shocked at first, but he then continued to glare at me. His glare still made me feel uneasy. I tried to push away my fear. I had to explain to him. He was waiting.

"I've heard several different versions of your childhood. Some say that your mother abandoned you, and the first clothing that she made for you was a mask. All the versions say that she didn't like you. Some versions say that you were born with a deformed face. Some others say that when you were a child, you had burnt your face with ash. I've heard many different versions, but either ways, they're not happy stories. But, I do know that you were abused in a fair, in front of others as an act. They called you the Devil's Child because of your face. I'm not sure how long they abused you, but you strangled one of the guys who used to beat you, and. . ."

I stopped before I said Madam Giry's name. I didn't want Erik to think that she blabbed to me, since I knew so much about him.

". . .A kind girl helped you escape, and you've lived here, under the Opera House, ever since." My eyes never left his. I watched his eyes change several times while I was explaining.

First, he looked at me with anger, but curiosity and interest lingered in his eyes as he impatiently waited for me to tell him what I knew about his past.

Then, he's eyes grew in astonishment- he looked almost horrified that I knew so much about him. For once, eh was actually speechless. His words disappeared in the painful silence. His mouth was ajar, and he stared at me with big eyes. The only thing I could hear was my nervous breathing, and I could feel my heart pounding.

Erik's face then began to harden. His eyebrow knitted downwards towards the other one that hid under his mask, as he glared at me. His eyes never flinched away from mine. He looked as though he was staring into my soul. This was nerve racking for me. I took a frightened step back and away from him. I felt cornered, and threatened. He took a step closer to me, his eyes dangerously holding mine. I was trapped in his eyes, and I had a feeling that I couldn't turn back.

"How did you know?" He asked in a surprisingly quieter tone. He took another threatening step towards me. _What could I tell him? _My mind screamed.

"Uh, I-Its really complicated. . ." It was the only excuse I could think of. He curled his lip at me. "You have plenty of time to explain to me. . ." He growled. One of Erik's black leather gloved hands, reached out, and harshly grabbed a hold of my upper arm. He had a firm grip on me. He turned the other direction, and began to drag me along with him. Part of me was horrified, and the other half was angered. _How dare you!_ I wanted to yell.

I stopped in our tracks, and tried to rip my arm from his grip. He shot me a death glare, looking very aggravated. His fingers dug into my bare arm a he tightened his grip. I tried once more to pry his hand away from my arm. He squeezed my arm even harder. I knew that a purple print of his hand would develop on my arm.

Erik roughly jerked me forward since I was stubbornly refusing to follow him. I cried out in shock. He continued to drag me. Before I knew it, he forced me to sit down on the bench next to the organ.

"I suggest you start." He said in a firm and deep voice. He stood in front of me, with his arms crossed. He looked down at me with impatient eyes. _Was he serious?_

"You won't believe me!" I cried out. He gritted his teeth in fury. If looks could kill, I would be dead. "Don't make me say it again." He said from his teeth. I could see a vain showing on the side of his neck. Wow, he's mad. I narrowed my eyes at him, refusing to feel scared. "Don't you _ever_, manhandle me like that ever again." I said through my teeth. It sounded like a threat. Gosh, if he ever did manhandle me like that, I would slap him across the face for it. I wouldn't hold back. He needed to understand that he is not the boss.

"First of all, I'm not from here." I said, referring to his original demand. "I'm from America. And I know so much about you because of the Phantom of the Opera-"

"You read my music notes, didn't you?" He interrupted, looking aggravated.

"What? No." I shook my head at him. "I already told you, I've seen the _movie_." I corrected. He looked at me puzzled. "I don't know what you're talking about." He said doubtful. I sighed frustrated.

_"Movie." _I said slowly for him. "It's. . . A show that plays on a box shaped devise. It's like watching a play in the Opera House, but it's on a box. Where I come from, most people have one in their house." He looked at me in confusion and disbelief. _"Movie. . ?"_ He said it as though he had a bad taste in his mouth, or he didn't like the sound of the word. "I told you, you wouldn't understand me!" I cried out. "I told you, I'm not from here!" I added in.

"How did you get here, then?" He snapped back suspiciously. The horrible feeling came back as the memory came rushing back to me.

The car was sinking deeper. . . The water filling the space in my lungs. . . The light left me as I began to fade away in the cold darkness. . . Then, he pulled me out when my life was hanging by only a thread. . .

I looked at Erik. He still looked very mad, and wanted answers. Even under all of the anger, I knew that he was the same man who pulled me out of the water.

Then a new feeling hit me. And, I could not _believe_ that I hadn't thought of it sooner. My family. They were probably worried sick! I hadn't seen them in two days! I began to feel panicked. How was I going to get home? I was with Erik, under the Opera House, in Paris, in 1870. . .Wait, if it were 1870, then how could my parents be worried for me if they hadn't been born yet? Shit, how was _I_ there? I hadn't been born yet, either. This was all giving me a head ach.

Seriously, I had to go home, but how could I? Was I stuck there? And for how long? Days, weeks, months, _years?_ Maybe I would never leave. . . I know that I'd get home sick after a while. I was so horribly far away from home, that it was frightening. _I. . . I may never see them again. . . _I thought. If I had known this, I would've cherished my last moments with them. . . Hell, I never would've gotten in the stupid car!

Fear began to take over me as a new thought entered my mind. I didn't remember getting in the car. . . I didn't even remember where I was going. . . How did I drive into a river, lake, or perhaps even a pond? I was _not_ a reckless driver. How did I get there? I could not remember a thing. . . Did I lose part of my memory? _What happened? Why can't I remember? _

The image of my parents popped into my head suddenly. I needed to go home. . . How long would It before I would see them, again? Since I hadn't actually been born yet, did that mean that I had time traveled? _ No shit, idiot. _I sneered inwardly.

So, did that mean that I would live here until I died, would I be reborn in the future? Would I live twice? Would I remember everything? Just realizing how far away I was sent frustrating tears to burn in my eyes. It was a lot more complicated then I had thought, and _very_ serious. I had to go home, and I didn't even know if I could.

"How did you get here?" Erik demanded once more, but that time he said it harsher due to him growing impatient when I hadn't responded earlier. I had jumped from my thoughts when his voice exploded into my senses. I looked into his impatient eyes that appeared to be oblivious to the sickening feeling that I was dealing with. I tried to fight the tears with all of my power. The thought of my parents brought more tears that I fought with all of my strength. I knew that my eyes were red. My tears were on the bridge of spilling over.

"I don't know. . ." I whispered.

Erik's face began to change when he saw the tears in my eyes. His mad face began to soften slightly. "What do you mean?" He looked at me puzzled. I pressed my lips into a straight line, trying to keep my lip from trembling. I looked away from his eyes, and turned my head so he wouldn't have to see my tearstained eyes. I felt so pathetic. . . I couldn't tell him that I was from the future. He would think that I was still confused.

"I-I can't remember. . . I honestly don't know _how_ I got here. . ." I bit my lip to keep my voice from cracking. My strength then gave in. My tears began to seep out as I hastily turned on the bench, so I was faced away from Erik. I didn't want him to see me like this. I was a mess. I probably looked like a weak, homesick, irritating girl. Erik was already mad at me, but he had to see me cry too? Gosh, I really must had been a burden.

To my surprise, Erik's tone had softened. "You must had lost part of your memory from the incident. . ." He said referring to when I had almost drowned. Erik was probably right. It was possible. . . Some people lose their memories when they get in an accident. Perhaps that was what happened to me? At least mine wasn't so serious. Some people get amnesia from it. But for me, it was only the night before the incident that I couldn't remember.

Also, when I was beginning to drown, my memory became hard to recall.

Tears continued to seep from my eyes. I could only imagine what my parents were going through. They're probably calling the police, reporting their missing daughter. They were probably imagining the worse. And if I were them, I would have been the fearing that the most sick, twisted thing had happened, as well. I couldn't blame them for thinking that.

I could only imagine what emotional disasters were going on at home. The thought was nerve racking. It brought more tears to my eyes. "I need to go home." I finally said.

"Thank you for letting me stay, but I now must leave." Without turning to take one more glance at Erik, I stood up from the bench, and began to walk away. My legs felt a little stiff. Not necessarily from sitting down, but because part of me didn't want to leave, as crazy as it sounded. I couldn't bring myself to look at him. If I did, I knew that I wouldn't be able to leave. I would be lost in the music of the night. . .

I looked at the green lake, instantly knowing that I wasn't going to swim through it. And the boat would be too much trouble since I didn't know how to use it. I would've fallen into the water. . . Certainly, there had to be another way out of here.

I then found a path that I knew lead to outside. I made my way towards the path. Erik's boots thumped on the ground from behind me. "Mademoiselle-" He tried to say.

"Please." I begged, cutting him off. "Forgive me for being such a burden. . ." I quietly said without turning to meet his gaze. I could feel that he was looking at me. I could feel his sad eyes.

I hastily walked through the path, starting upstairs. I could hear Erik's footsteps following me. _Why? _I thought. _Doesn't he understand that I __**have**__ to leave? _He wasn't making this any better for me. It was already hard enough for me to leave. For a moment I wondered why it was so hard for me to leave. Why should it be so hard? Erik had horrible anger problems, and I should be afraid of him. I should think that he's a monster for acting that way. I should think that he's abusive, and I should never see him ever again. Why don't I feel more mad or even afraid of him? _Well, I was earlier. . ._ I thought.

I imagined myself in his shoes. He's a man who had lived a life of nothing by hate and pity in himself. He wasn't even loved by his own mother. She was horrified by this face, and never showed any motherly affection to him. Then, at a young age, he was abused at a fair, because of his face. They did that to him as a show, to get money. To be honest, I didn't really blame him for killing the man who abused him. After all, how else would he have escaped? He didn't have any other options. He would have been there until he collapsed in exhaustion. In his state, it probably wouldn't have been long. Then, Madam Giry was kind enough to help him hide out under the Opera House. That's probably the only nice thing that anyone had ever done for him. Poor Erik had lived there under the Opera House for the rest of his life. He's believed with all of his heart that no one would ever love him because of his face. How could someone blame him for thinking that, after all, he was never loved for it before. If I were him, I would've gone insane too. His heart yearn for _someone, anyone_ to love him. Someone to share kind words with him. Someone to comfort him.

The memory of Erik tears being shed as I held his face in my hands, replayed in my mind. It was so resent. It was from earlier this morning. How did all of these things happen over just a day? Over just the course of two days, I found myself growing attached to him. Was it possible that I liked him that way?

_No. No, Clare. Don't think like that. _I told myself. You haven't known him for that long. Plus, he had emotional problems. _Do you really want to be abused for the rest of your life? _I questioned myself.

_No. No I don't. But I wouldn't let him abuse me! _I thought_._

_Yeah, good luck with that. Once an abuser, always an abuser._ I inwardly argued back. _Its best to just walk away, now. _The thought brought tears to fall from my eyes. I didn't want to walk away yet. I yearned to help him. He was still the same man who saved my life. Sure, he had emotional problems, but I could help him find a better life. I could help aid his scarred heart.

_He shouldn't have grabbed you like that. Also, you saw the horrifying anger in his eyes, Clare. _My mind argued back.

_I wouldn't let him do that ever again_. I thought_. _

Why should it be so hard? I was instantly met with my own answer. I seemed so hard to leave the person who I thought was a fictional character. Someone who I never would've met. Someone I had always yearned to help. That someone, who just happened to be the Angel of Music. . .

What were my chances of becoming part of a story? How could I have been there by sheer coincidence? Why would fate bring me here? Life must have truly hated me if it was cruel enough to make me leave Erik. _Why? _I wanted to be part of this beautifully written story. I didn't want to live an ordinary life like everyone else. I think I secretly wanted to say with Erik. I wanted to help him. Even if he had an extremely horrible anger problem, I felt that I could help him realize that he wasn't alone. But, of course, I was forced to live an ordinary life, where I would dream of a beautiful life, forever. I would always be looking out the window, imagining how life could have been. I would spend most of my life daydreaming. Knowing that life handed out one exotic opportunity to live an extraordinary life. Knowing that my heart belonged somewhere else. Not reality. My heart belonged _here. _

Yet, I asked myself why I was leaving. I was leaving because it was the right thing for me to do. I was supposed to be back in my dull reality. If I was supposed to be here, then I would've been born _here_. Not anywhere else. But since I was born and raised in the future, then I had to go back. It was where my family and friends were. I loved them very much. Also, it would be selfish of me if I had stayed here. My family and friends needed me back home.

But. . . How did I come here? How could I go home, if I didn't even know how I had arrived here? Does that mean that I'm supposed to be here then? Is fate trying to keep me here? It was all too confusing. I wished that I could just go to sleep, and awake to find my clear answer. _What_ was I supposed to do?

My mind told me to go home since it was the _right_ thing to do. I needed to go back home. There was a reason why my home was _there_. Not _here_.

Although, my heart begged me to stay where the Angel of Music was not a simple fanticy. My heart yearned for me to stay in this beautiful world. Where I didn't have to daydream anymore. Where my soul could finally sore.

Our true homes, are with the ones we love. It's not home if we're unhappy. I loved my family and friends very much. I always would. But, if I went back home, I would forever wonder where I belonged. And I would secretly cry cold tears for the true love I felt for this beautiful world. I would never be able to forget the music that filled my heart. His music would haunt me. His face would haunt me. Not in horrifying way, but in a yearning way. I yearned to stay here, and help him. With the Phantom of the Opera. With the Opera Ghost. With Erik.

But, I had to leave. It was the right thing to do. Even if it meant I had to sacrifice my beautiful dreams. I had to say good bye to this fascinating world.

It hurt me deeply. There had been a spot saved in my heart just for Erik. But after seeing the anger in his eyes, I felt that I had to leave. Forget Erik. Continue life at home. Where I belonged.

_No_. I thought. _NO_. I couldn't forget him. In my heart, I would never forget the music of the night. I would never forget Erik. I would never forget. Even if I wanted to.

At least I was able to enjoy or experience a part of this world. At least I was able to taste its sweet flavor. Even if it was just for a short time. . .

I didn't even realize that the entire time that these never ending thoughts ran through my mind, I was sobbing. I couldn't stop. My breaths were shallow. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. They didn't show a sign of stopping. I tried my best to keep my sobs quiet. My face felt hot with tears. My eyes burned as more tears seeped from my red eyes.

"Mademoiselle- wait!" I heard Erik plead from a ways behind me. His footsteps became rapid as he tried to catch up with me. His footsteps grew louder as he neared closer. _No! Leave me alone!_ I wanted to scream, but my voice was caught in my throat. Out of fear of him stopping me, I began to run up the stairs as quickly as possible. I held up part of my dress so I could run easier. I raced up the stairs, taking two or three steps at a time. I ran until Erik's footsteps faded away.

I then realized that the only footsteps that I could hear were my own. My legs burned from running up the stairs. My lungs sent a sharp pain from both, the almost drowning incident, and from my then current hyperventilation from racing up the stairs. I slowed down a little, trying to catch my breath. It was hard to since I couldn't control my sobs. I stopped, and rested my hands on my knees. _Just breathe. . ._ I told myself. My leg throbbed and trembled. My throat felt so dry, as I gasped for air.

Tears seeped from my eyes, and my lip trembled. _Good bye Erik. . . I'm sorry. . ._ I thought as I tried to swallow the lump in my throat.

As I was resting, a sudden noise startled me from my thoughts. It was just a creak sound, but it was enough to send me running further up the path. I was afraid that he was following me, and I couldn't have that happen. I ran from the spot, hoping that he had lost sight of me.

I then entered a very large room. Instead of stairs, there was a clear and smooth path that curled towards upstairs. It looked just like the path that Raoul used in the movie, before he fell to his almost watery death. I raced on forward hoping to reach the top quickly. Although, the path seemed to extend on and on. It seemed like it would never end.

I skidded to a halt when I realized something. Raoul almost died because he fell for one of the traps along here_. I should be more careful. . ._

From what I could remember, a secret door opened in the middle of the path. . . So, maybe it would be safer if I stayed closer to the edge? _I might have a better chance there. . . It'll have to do for now. . . _

I began to race along closer to the side of the path. Everything seemed okay there. My sides felt like they were splitting from my never ending sprint. I began to hyperventilate once more. _What am I gonna do? _I asked myself. _How am I gonna get home? _I was from the future. Maybe if I knew how I had gotten here then I would know how to go back. But, just my luck, I couldn't remember. _What am I gonna do?_ I asked myself once again. The question would not leave me alone. It kept repeating itself over and over.

I didn't even have a clue. It was all so useless. I couldn't go home, but I _had_ to! My family and friends needed me. _Urgh! I'll say it again, Clare! They haven't been born yet!_ I thought. _Well, neither have I. . ._

It was all too confusing. Gosh, at the moment, I was just a girl who was pointlessly running away from her true dream, forcing herself to go home. But even that was useless. I was just a girl who dreamed of nothing but a true love. I was just a foolish girl.

More tears streamed from my eyes. It was all too overwhelming. It was too much to take in at once. I tried to push away my sorrow feelings. Just, focus on going home. . . I told myself. _I must find my way back home._

**Okay, I think that's the end of this chapter. My goodness, in my rough draft, this was only half of the chapter! I've been working on this all day. Whew, I'm tired. **

**I know, it's a little bit of a cliff hanger. I hope you guys like it so far. Poor Clare, trying to figure out what she should and shouldn't do. So, what's gonna happen next? How is she gonna get home? Is Erik gonna stop her? You'll find out in next chapter!**

**Please read and review!**


	4. Strange Angel

**Ah, thank you so much for the reviews! **

**Zombitude-Ah, thanks! **

**grapejuice101- Aww, thank you! Hmm. . . Music of the Night and The Phantom of the Opera. . . Well, we'll just have to wait and see what happens!**

**The Phantomess 99-Thank you! **

**Thank you again for the reviews! I couldn't wait any longer to update! So, here's chapter four! I do not own The Phantom of the Opera or the songs from it. I do own my OC, though. **

**Enjoy!**

I raced along the path. My feet were becoming sore, but I ignored it. My rapid footsteps echoed throughout the whole room. Even my gasps, that were my attempt of air, softly bounced off the walls.

A hand suddenly grabbed a hold of my arm. My breath hitched in my throat. The grip was very strong, but it hurt even more since it grabbed the bruise that Erik made on my arm from earlier. A cry of both shock, and pain escaped from me. I heard my own cry echo throughout the whole room. The hand whirled me around, and I slammed into a body. I made a rough impact with the figure. It hurt my nose, as my face smacked up against someone's chest. I felt my nose begin to throb.

I looked up, finding Erik looking down at me. I nearly leaped from my skin when I saw him standing right there. His eyes were still a little irritated, but they looked more so concerned. His eyes softened when they fell onto my tear stained face. I still felt his grip on my arm. I winced in pain, as I felt his pressure on the bruise.

Erik took notice to my sudden pain. His attention went to his hand that gripped my arm. He loosened his grip, and pulled his hand away to see why I had been cringing in pain. His hand recoiled away completely when he saw the purple bruise that was the same print of his hand. Regret and horror flashed in his eyes. He swallowed hard as though he was trying to get rid of a lump in his throat.

"Forgive me. . ." He said breathlessly. "I don't know what came over me. . ." His eyes became glassy.

"It was wrong of me to do that. I-I'm so sorry. . ." He whispered.

Just seeing his face reminded me that I had to leave. Sometimes I wondered if this place was even real. I sometimes wondered that if I blinked, I would find the world fade away, and return to reality. He seemed so real. . . My longing for this world of nighttime would be real. I would cry real tears of sadness. My agony would be real.

I looked at the white mask that hid half of his face. Erik's eyes were glassy from behind the mask. With or without his mask, I thought he was beautiful. Here he was, trying to apologize. Did he not know how hard it was for me? Just seeing him was another dangerous step closer to deciding to stay. The strange magnetized pull was beginning to keep me there. I felt like I couldn't get my legs to run from there. To turn and run away before my heart could break down. Before I could feel the pain. Before I could decide against it. Before my heart would beg and plead for me to stay. Before I would give up. I had to stay focused on leaving and returning home. At that moment, I wished that all of my frustrating feeling could leave me at once. I couldn't bare to return home with the thought of Erik still lingering in my heart. It would tear me apart.

The magnetized forced pulled my heart closer to Erik, but his pushed mine away. His heart belonged to Christine, though I could feel another spot in his heart, reserved for me. But, _how_ was it reserved?

I felt tears roll down my face. I tried to swallow the thick lump in my throat.

"Phantom, please. . ." I begged. "I must leave. . ." I felt my body trembling as my stomach knotted up tightly. Just trying to leave made me feel sick.

His eyes searched mine as he tried to seek to find answers. "I frightened you. . ." He said referring to how he had lashed out at me. His eyes held great pain.

"Yes. . ." I admitted sadly. I watched as his eyes glimmered with tears. His lip twitched. I heard him take shallow breaths. He was quiet for a moment. His eyes had filled with unbearable sadness, shame, and regret. "I'm sorry. . ." He whispered with a trembling voice.

He stepped closer as his fingers gently grazed my jaw. I felt the leather on his gloved hands softly brush my skin. His eyes told me that he wanted to hold me, though he could only bring himself to carefully touch my face. He had never done that. . . The contact was so _longing, _like he was begging me not to leave. He was making it harder and harder for me. I would miss this touch.

My face was wet with tears, and I could feel my tears touching his gloves.

"I have to leave. . ." I whispered. The words brought more tears to fall from my eyes. "My mother and father need me. . ." My voice was trembling. I sniffed. "I-I just don't know how I'm going to get h-home." I was trying so hard not to sob. My entire body was trembling. I was struggling to breathe normally.

"I understand. . ." He said softly. "But please stay until tomorrow. . . I-I can take you home. . ." He desperately offered. It was so sweet of him to offer, although, he didn't seem to understand where I was really from.

I stubbornly shook my head. "No. I-I have to leave right n-now." I looked at him one last time. Taking in every last little detail, I slipped away from his fingers and turned to leave. My heart was sinking in agony. The despair gripped my heart, and its grip wouldn't loosen. I closed my eyes in shame as more tears fell.

Before I was too far to reach, Erik hastily grabbed onto my hand. He spun me around and caught me in his arms when I slammed into him. He didn't do it so harshly this time, but more in a panicked way of losing me

"Dammit!" I cried out. I pounded my small fist on his firm chest. My hand instantly began to throb, reminding me of the bruises on it. "You're making this harder and harder for me!" I wasn't sure if I was mad at him, or longing for him. I weakly hit his chest. I then completely broke down, and started sobbing.

Erik pulled me closer to him into an embrace. I felt his arms wrap around me. He held me tightly in his arms. I buried my face into his chest. My tears stained into his dark brown vest. My whole body shook uncontrollably as I sobbed hard into him. I was gasping for air since I had only been taking shallow ones. Countless tears seeped from my eyes. They didn't show a sign of stopping any time soon. They soaked into his vest, leaving wet spots on his chest.

I felt so weak and pathetic. So lost and confused. I didn't know what to do. I was just a mess. Why did life have to be so complicated? I was caught between doing the right thing, and wanting to follow my heart. All of my secrets and feelings were starting to unravel. _I think I love Erik. . ._

But I shouldn't have. I had only known him for two days. He was a lot older than me. He loved Christine. I didn't even belong there. . . Why was life being so cruel?

When I didn't stop sobbing, Erik then swept me right off my feet. He picked me up with such ease, like I had weighed nothing. He cradled me close to his chest. He was holding me bride style, once more. I wrapped my arms around his neck. I sobbed into his shoulder and neck. He tightened his arms from under me as he pulled me to him as close as possible. He gently rubbed my back in a soothing manner.

"I need to go home-but I don't know _how_ to get home." I said between my sobs. I felt Erik's weight shift from one foot to the other as he began walking somewhere with me in his arms. It was a calm and steady pace.

"I can take you home tomorrow." He offered once more. I could feel my heart sinking. He didn't understand. "I like _very_ far away." I admitted. I gasped in air. As I did, I got a whiff of Erik's scent. He smelled like candles. Not scented candles- just regular wax candles. I could also smell roses lingering in his scent. It made sense after all, he always had roses to give to Christine.

"We can leave in the morning." He added in. He simply didn't get it. He would never understand.

"N-No. You don't understand." I did my best not to choke on my own sobs. Erik was silent for a few moments. I listened to his footsteps echo throughout the whole room. Every time Erik exhaled from his nose, I could feel his breath brush the top of my head. He took long and steady breaths.

"What are you trying to tell me?" He asked in a low tone.

I felt my lip tremble. He was going to think I was crazy when I said that I was from the future. I was afraid that I would lose my connection with him if he began to think that I was insane. I buried my face into his neck.

His clothing covered up most of his neck, but I could feel some of his bare skin towards his upper neck, and jaw. Some of his exposed skin touched the right side of my face. Surprisingly, his skin was actually really warm. It felt nice on my face, even if I was still sobbing. I felt my tears touch his skin. It didn't really seem to bother him. My cheek was pressed up against his neck and jaw. The pulse under his jaw thumped gently. His lips were right above my eyebrow. Every once in a while, I felt his lips graze my skin as he walked down the path. I could feel the edge of his mask press onto my forehead.

Erik patiently waited for my answer that he wouldn't receive. I just couldn't answer him. I knew that he wouldn't believe me. After a moment of waiting he breathed out a sigh that brushed the top of my head.

"I have asked too many questions today. You don't have to answer right this moment if you don't want to." He said.

Through my tears, I felt a little relieved that he said that. But more tears came to my eyes when my sorrow feelings came rushing back.

"I have to go home, b-but I don't _w-want_ to leave." I sobbed into his neck. A horrible feeling racked my whole body. My heart was sinking deeper in unforgiving sadness. Despair gripped even tighter around my heart.

"Why?" He asked dumbfounded. I cried even harder into his neck. He suddenly stopped upon hearing my sobs increase. He gently rubbed my back. "You don't have to, but you can tell me if you wish. . ." He said softly.

I didn't speak until I caught my breath. "It's so beautiful here- and I don't want to return to my dull life." I cried out weakly. "I'm stuck between doing the right thing and doing what my heart wants. . ." I admitted. Erik fell silent for a moment. I felt his weight shift from once foot to the other as he began walking again. "You think it's beautiful here?" He asked in disbelief.

"I think it's rather _dark_ here. . ." He mused.

"I guess we all have our opinions." I pointed out weakly. Another tear fell on Erik's neck. "Don't cry, Child. . ." He said in a soothing tone. "I said I would take you home. You should know that you can't stay here for much longer. Your family and friends need you." He pointed out to me. I already knew all of it. He was explaining it for nothing.

Part of me wanted to see my family again. I loved them very much and I knew I would grow homesick. But the other part of me didn't want to leave Erik.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked out of the blue. I felt taken aback. What was he talking about? Did he mean when he grabbed me earlier? When he demanded answers? It was the only thing I could think of. "What? When you were angry earlier?" I questioned. I tried to look at him but my vision was blurry, due to tears. Through my clouded vision, I saw him wince with regret and shame. "Yes. . ." He barely made out. He sounded so ashamed, like he was mentally scolding himself. I could also see pain and unbearable regret fill in his blue eyes.

I tried to find the right words. "Well. . . You _did_ give me a bruise on my arm. . ." I admitted. "And you were quite. . . Frightening. . ." I almost cringed when I picked the word _frightening. _

"You said a few hurtful things too. And like I said before, you're only a monster if you let yourself act like one. . ." I reminded him. "And what I saw today was definitely a monster." I snapped, referring to his actions. I watched as his eyes began to fill with tears. He looked over whelmed with regret, shame and sadness.

"I'm so sorry. . ." I heard in his voice that he was holding back a sob. "Please forgive me. I didn't mean to act like that. . . You have _every_ right to be upset." He said quietly.

"I am upset." I snapped back. I felt like he had to be scolded. If he wasn't, then he would never get over his anger problems. He needed to know that he was _not_ the boss of me. "Don't you _ever_ treat me like that again." Through my tears, I was shooting him a warning glare. I saw a few tears escape from his eyes. His breaths became shallow and rapid. "I won't. I'm so sorry." He whispered. "I'll never do that to you again. . . I don't expect you to forgive me, but I still want you to know that I am very sorry." He weakly sobbed out.

I felt one of his cold tears land on my cheek. "And I don't think that you are a burden. . ." He quietly sobbed into my long wavy red hair. Hearing him say that sent a recent memory to flood back into my mind.

_"Mademoiselle-"_

_"Please. . . Forgive me for being such a burden. . ."_

Erik gently rested his cheek on top of my head. I felt a few tears fall into my hair. He held me close to his chest. I could faintly hear him weep into my hair. I couldn't get my head around what I truly felt. One moment I was afraid of him. The next I was furious at him. What did I feel that time? Slight guilt? Why should I be the one who feels a little bad? It should've been _him_. Although, feeling his tears leaking into my hair made a new emotion hit me. Perhaps he did feel bad. Only regret could make someone shed these tears. His sobs weren't like any other. His sadness wasn't the same as any other I had felt or even seen. They exposed his true inner feelings. I felt regret in his tears. I could feel that he, himself, was utterly repulsed and horrified from the monster that had been unleashed from him. I could feel his tears apologizing to me. They begged for me to understand that he regretted it. That he regretted it with all of his heart. That if he could, he would go back, and change his actions. That he wished that he hadn't frightened me. That he wished that I hadn't seen the monster in his soul that was untamed for that short time. His tears said that he wouldn't be able to forgive himself. . .

I knew that he did _not_ have the right to do those things, but what do you expect from a person who never felt any love or comfort from _anyone_ in his whole life? I could see why he was in an emotional mess. I didn't expect him to change just over night. He couldn't be one hundred percent healed by the next morning. I would be utterly baffled if he was.

The world was harsh to him, which burned a permanent scar in his heart. I could help him heal, but it would take a very long time. And even then, he wouldn't fully recover. His past memories would forever haunt him. He would always have a tender and sensitive part in his lonely and pitiful heart. I could show him friendship. I could share comforting words with him, to show kindness to him. I could be his friend. . . I could help him realize that he could tame the monster in his heart, if he didn't like the person he saw in the mirror. Not physically, but mentally. When he saw his own eyes, what did he see? Pain? Hatred? Surely, they would vanish if he had a change of heart.

He didn't seem to know how to get over his past. He couldn't change if he continued to look through other's eyes. He would also have a harder time getting over his past if he was alone. _Everyone needs a shoulder to cry on. . . _

His eyes pleaded for nothing more but caring words. . .

I knew that even if I helped him heal, it would take a long time. The world had never showed any love to him. I knew that he couldn't recover quickly. It would take time.

"You need to let go of the past." I whispered to him. "I know the world was harsh to you, but don't listen to them. You need to get your anger under control. And the only way to do that is to forget what they said about you." I hadn't realized that Erik had just been standing there, holding me as he wept quietly in my hair. "I will try. . ." He vowed. "For you. . ." He said softly.

Slowly, Erik continued walking once more. Less and less tears fell on my head. And less and less tears seeped from my eyes. The lump in my throat had finally disappeared. I looked at Erik, finding that his tears had stopped falling, although a hint of red lingered in his eyes. My eyes had still burned a little, but my tears had finally stopped falling.

Although my nose was still slightly sore from when I collided with Erik. It throbbed a little, but it wasn't very bad.

My eyes fell upon my hands that softly rested behind Erik's neck. My right hand was wrist was wrapped in a white bandage. The white bandages reminded me of my earlier question.

"Phantom?"

His blue eyes fixed themselves onto my green eyes upon hearing his _'name'_. Well, his nickname, anyways. . .

"Yes, mademoiselle?" He asked. Now that I had his attention, I pulled my hand from behind his neck. I examined the white bandages on my hand. "Did you do this. . ?"

He followed my gaze, and his eyes fell onto my wrapped hand. Since his eyes were on my hand, I snuck a glance at him, since he wouldn't notice.

I saw a faint blush crawl to his face. Well, half of it I couldn't see, but I saw his face darken in a pink or redder shade. The blush popped out against his ivory mask. I felt giddy, like a girl looking from behind her math book to sneak a glance at a boy in class. Okay, yes, I admit it, I really liked Erik. But, it didn't matter anyways. He was in love with Christine, and I had to accept it.

"Uh. . ." He mused under his breath. He then cleared his throat. "Yes. Yes, I did. . ." I saw him trying to hide his blush, but he seemed oblivious that I had already seen it by then. So, he was hiding it for nothing. "Thank you. . ." I said in awe. "How bad was it?" I asked as I remembered how I banged and pounded my hand against the window. Remembered how I desperately tried to escape from the sinking car. . .

Erik's voice pulled me from the horrifying memory. "Well, your hand and wrist were severely bruised, and there were a few deep cuts where I found glass shards. I pulled out the glass when you were asleep," I threw him a questioning glance. _When I was __**asleep? **_I thought baffled. _How did I __**not**__ wake up from that? Geez, I must be a deep sleeper. . ._ He noticed my funny glance and continued.

"You were so exhausted, that you didn't even stir. For a while, I was concerned that you were unconscious, or became ill. I think you had a bit of a fever, but it was gone by morning." After a sort silence he they added in, "You muttered a few times in your sleep. . ."

Oh gosh. . . How embarrassing! I felt my face flush. Whenever I was sick, I would sometimes mutter in my sleep. It was very rare, though. If anything, I usually moaned in my sleep. I guess it was better than snoring, but still. I couldn't believe that Erik heard me moan and mutter like a zombie.

"What did I say?" I was almost afraid to find out. My paranoid thoughts took over as I imagined the worse. . .

_Come snuggle with me!_

Or something random that had to do with my dream like: _What are you looking at? I'm trying to eat! _The worse would be if I muttered a long moan like a brain dead zombie. I prayed that I didn't do anything too embarrassing.

"Well, you wanted to know what year it was. . ." Erik mused. "A couple times you said the word, _home_." I felt the blood drain from my face. I _asked_ what year it was? _Oh no. . . What if he hears me say that I'm from the future, tonight? _ I thought panicked.

"You also moaned a few times. . ." He added in. _Urgh! NO! _I felt my face instantly heat up. I flushed fiercely. By then, I was officially embarrassed. I forced out a laugh, but it came out sounding sheepish. I felt even _more_ embarrassed after that.

Erik continued on as thought he didn't seem to notice my sheepish laugh. "Your other hand was a little bruised, but it wasn't as bad, so I decided not to wrap it. Your elbow was severely bruised, though." After he said that, I remembered about the patch on my elbow, that I had almost forgotten about.

"Thank you. . . Thank you so much- you didn't have to do that. . ." I gave him a genuine smile. He gently smiled back. "The pleasure was mine. . ." It was different to see him smile. It was nice. It was such a shame that he had always been so upset. He had a nice smile. It made butterflies dance in my stomach.

"But, when we get back, I will have to change out the bandages." His voice pulled me away from my thoughts. "Okay. . ." I answered before looking around.

We were exiting the large room with the smooth path that curled upstairs. Erik walked down the stone steps that I look earlier when I was running away. We were starting to get closer to Erik's lair, but we still had a ways to go. The painful memory slapped me across the face when I remembered why Erik became mad before I had run away. All because of that question. . . _What's wrong? _It repeated itself over and over in my mind.

"Phantom. . ?" I asked once more. It still felt weird when I called him that. It sounded almost unnatural to call him by _Phantom._

"Yes?" He asked as he fathomed over what was on my mind.

I never noticed before how dark it was down here. The stone path leading back to his lair grew darker by each step. Erik's footsteps echoed thought the tunnel. I had to admit, I wasn't a huge fan of the darkness. There were a few lit torches every once in a while, but it was rather dark. I looked down the path, finding it dark. My eyes couldn't adjust very well in it, but I knew Erik's could. To me, it was just a dark tunnel. It looked really creepy. . .

I buried my face back into Erik's neck and closed my eyes. I felt Erik's chest rise and fall with each steady and calm breath. It felt like a soothing pattern, and it began to calm me. It felt so soothing and comforting to me.

"I'm really sorry if this question upsets you. . ." I stopped as I pondered over whether I should've even bothered to ask.

"What's on your mind, child?" He sounded curious by then. Well, I guess I had to ask. There was no going back by then. My stomach knotted up as fear grew inside me. _What if he gets mad again? Clare! You still have a chance! Just say that you forgot what you were gonna ask! _I shook that stupid thought away. _No, no. Be honest. . . _I told myself.

I quietly breathed in his wax and rose scent, which oddly calmed me down.

"Well. . . Earlier, I asked you what was wrong because you looked at the. . ." I thought for the right word. "You looked at the _wedding dress_, sadly. It looked like something was bothering you. I was only trying to help, but you got really mad. . ." I said quietly.

My stomach knotted up once more when he didn't respond right away. "You don't have to explain if you don't want to." I quickly added in.

I felt his breath gently brush the top of my head. I half expected his breaths to become choppy and rapid, but I felt his chest rise and fall at a normal pace. My fear still lingered but I slowly began to calm down. _Maybe my question is still processing in his head_. . . I thought nervously. Ugh, stupid paranoid thoughts. . . I heard Erik sigh, which brought me from my thoughts.

"I'm so sorry for acting harsh earlier. . ." He said once more. "Your question had upset me because it reminded me of a recent unhappy memory. . ." He nearly muttered the word _recent_, like as though he disliked the word.

"Recent?" I asked in disbelief. I had thought that most of his unhappy memories happened years ago. I couldn't help but to think that.

"Yes. . ." He admitted sadly. "I. . . I brought Christine to my lair the night before you arrived. . ." He said in a softer tone. "I sang a song that I wrote called the Music of the Night. . ." He explained it as though it were new to me. Instead, he was oblivious to the fact that I already knew how the story went. Although, I must say, I wasn't sure how far I was in the storyline when I first showed up. _Well, now I know. _

"I wanted to marry her, and when I showed her the figure of her in the wedding dress, she fainted. . ." He explained. Jealously stung my heart, but I shoved it aside. _Christine is lucky_. . . My mind muttered sadly. Erik's voice began to change as he reached the hard part of the story.

"In the morning she. . . She took off my mask, and. . . I wasn't able to control my anger. . ." His voice trembled a little. "Later that day, when night fell, I found you in my lake. You know it from there. . ." He added in. Erik drew in an unsteady breath. "I acted like a monster to her. . ." His lips grazed my skin as he spoke.

His story was starting to make sense. _Well, if Christine rejects him, then I get him all to myself!_ I teased inwardly_. Yeah, I don't think so. _I thought. I really didn't think that Erik would like me that way. After all, Christine's voice was better, and she was way prettier than me. Erik wouldn't be interested in me. _Well, since I'm gonna have to find a way home, I can at least help Erik get closer to Christine. . . _I thought. Yes, it was going to kill me, but _someone_ deserved happiness. Christine could get together with Erik, since he had always been her Angel of Music, _and_ poor Erik needed to settle down and find a woman. And he loved Christine so much. . .

And Raoul could _easily_ find a different woman. For crying out loud, he had a good chance with just about _any_ of the girls. They all liked him too.

_So, for now, I can help Erik get together with Christine before I leave_. I decided.

"You need to control your anger." I said for the thousandth time. "You are certainly _not_ going to impress her if you act that way." I waited for Erik to say something but I was met with silence. I desperately wanted to hug him. My arms were already around his neck, so I gently tightened them in a soft embrace, instead. My secret hug was unnoticed by him. I stayed like that for a long time.

My mind naturally thought of all the _nice_ things Erik had done for me. He saved my life. He treated my injuries. He let me stay at his place. He even gave me clothes to wear. He even helped me sing, and told me not to listen to what other had to say about me.

We've grown closer after both of his outburst. We kept learning more about each other. He was nice enough to _carry_ me, a crying girl, back to his lair. _And now he's offering to take me home tomorrow. . . It seemed quite impossible. . . _I thought.

"Thank you. . ." I whispered to him.

As Erik walked down the steps, I felt like I was rocking. Feeling his chest rise and fall calmly, easily soothed me. I could feel the pulse under his jaw beat softly on my cheek. His lips would graze me right above my eyebrow. I could still feel his mask pressed up against my forehead. His skin felt soft and warm. His skin felt newly shaven. I liked how it felt.

I breathed in his scent once more. The candle wax, and rose scent for some reason, comforted me. It felt so nice to be in his arms. It was all such a nice sensation. To be caressed in his arms. . . It was perfect.

I felt my eyelids droop. The rhythm of his breaths, pulse, even his walking pace was rocking me to sleep. His scent was intoxicating. Although, it too, caressed me. I felt my arms loosen from his neck, a little. I began to relax in his arms.

Erik hummed a comforting song under his breath. It sounded so angelic. So deep and soothing. I felt nearly drunk by it. The song sounded so familiar. . . Before I could drown in the music, I realized that it was the Music of the Night. I snuggled closer to Erik's chest, and I drifted.

**I'd say this chapter is finished! Wow, so much drama, I know. xD **

**Well, I hope you guys liked it!**

**Please read and review!**


	5. Sweet Angel

**I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, or its music. I only own my OC! **

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews! Sorry guys, but I wanna keep my author notes short, so I'm not gonna be able to review over all of your comments. Sorry guys. **

**But, I do wanna say a special thanks to ****Novexus Prime**** for their review. I'm still beaming from your review, thank you!**

**Anyways, hope you enjoy!**

I felt like I was peacefully drowning in the scent of wax candles, and roses. I felt the nice soothing warmth of Erik's arms around me. I could hear his footsteps gently skid along the ground. After a moment they slowly faded away from my ears. With me still in his arms, I felt him leaning forward carefully. A familiar soft material touched my body from under me. Erik's arms carefully slipped away from under me. The new material that softly caressed me, felt cold and had been previously untouched. I could feel Erik's presence leave me. The shadow that had been casted by Erik suddenly disappeared as he left. Instead, a light blinded my already closed eyes. It was a soft dim light, but it still made my conscious stir awake.

My eyes fluttered open. I realized that the light that had been invading the shadows was merely lit candles in the room. My eyes felt incredibly sore from the light sleep I had fallen for. The soft cold and untouched material from under me was a very familiar red fabric. Blinking away my clouded vision, I realized that I was lying in the red swan bed. The bed still felt so soft that I felt like I could sleep for eternity.

I gazed around the bedroom finding that I was alone. The red curtain in front of the doorway fluttered gently as though it had been moved recently.

For that short moment, I had been gazing around, not truly processing anything. My conscious slowly began to awake, after I had been blindly looking around the room. I was able to detect things clearly once more.

Realizing that I was lying in the red swan bed, I began to remember how I had fallen asleep in Erik's arms. Certainly, he must had brought me back to his lair, and decided to let me sleep here once again.

_"I will take you home in the morning. . ." _

His words echoed in my mind from the recent memory. Just remembering his velvet voice made a shiver run up my spine. There was something about his deep voice that I loved so much.

I sat up in the bed. I half expected to find a red sheet to be draped over me, but I found there was nothing else but my nightgown that I had been wearing the whole time. I blindly stared off into space, as thoughts poured into my mind. The memory of Erik begging me to stay entered in my brain. _Was it really smart of me to stay? _ I thought. Even just for the night? After all, he promised to take me home. What was wrong with that? It was a very kind and generous thing for him to do. He couldn't be that bad if he was doing that for me.

_No, Clare. He has emotional problems. He could snap at anytime._ Part of me thought. _I'm only going to stay until the morning. . . _

That is, if I could even figure out how to get home. . . And, if he even thought about snapping, he would learn quickly that he couldn't be the boss of me. I wouldn't let him act that ever again. If for whatever reasons I stayed here, because I couldn't find a way home, I would make sure that he wouldn't snap at me ever again. If he did, I would leave this place for good. I didn't know where I would go, but I would leave.

What were my chances of finding my way back home? There were no traces of how I even arrived here. It seemed utterly impossible. Perhaps I was trapped in a dream, and I just had to awake. But, did I really want to awake right away? No, I wanted to somehow help the man who had learned how to live lonely. He must have felt wretched to live an isolated life from everyone else. Even if I awoke to find it never happened, at least I would somehow feel like I had helped someone. Even if it was only in my dreams. It sounded silly, but it made my mind feel a little more a peace.

I then asked myself a question that lingered in my mind. _Do you think he honestly felt bad about when he snapped? _

I hoped so. The regret in his eyes were overwhelming. He looked repulsed by his own angered actions. He looked horrified by himself. All the emotions had filled in his eyes as he told me how sorry he was. Everyone did something that they regretted. Yes, his anger made him look horrifying. His anger overall was repulsing. But after all, there would be a reason why he would regret it himself. It was the reason why we all regretted things in life. We couldn't regret things if we weren't disappointed or even _repulsed_ by our own actions. And what I saw in Erik's eyes was great regret in his actions.

_I'm not Erik, but if he really does regret horrifying me with his anger, then surely he would change._ I thought. Although, only time would tell. And if I found myself sticking around, only to see his horrifying anger once more, then I would leave.

_Don't all abusers say they're sorry?_ I asked myself. They would say they were sorry, only to repeat the same actions again. _Everyone's different. Just because most people do something, doesn't mean all of them do the same thing. Erik said he was sorry. Now I just have to see how sorry, sorry really is_.

_Just take care of yourself, Clare_. I told myself. _Make sure that you're not black and blue by the end of this._

Before I could think of anything else, the red curtain moved aside as Erik gracefully stepped into the room. He was still dressed in his black clothing. He wasn't wearing his dark cloak, but he still wore his black clothes with his dark brown vest. Of course, his white mask continued to stick to the left side of his face, so I could only see his right exposed face. _I guess you'd say the mask was on __**his**__ right._ His mask always made his expressions hard to read. Only his exposed side, could you read his emotions. But his stubborn mask always made if difficult. Although, the best way to read his emotions, was through his eyes. His dark clothing made his white skin pop out. He looked really nice in the darker colors. It made his white skin look amazing. Almost glowing.

In his hands, he was holding bandages, wraps, and a small bottle with clear liquid. It looked like water to me.

I also noticed that for once he wasn't wearing his black leather gloves. He had long fingers. They looked soft and untouched. Like _no one_ had ever touched his hands before. I had a strong urge to reach out and grab his hands.

His blue eyes then landed on my green eyes. "You're awake." Astonishment lingered in his voice to see me staring back at him. Even though his voice sounded surprised, his face remained straight, making him look calm.

My eyes gazed back at the items in his bare hands.

_"But, when we get back, I will have to change out the bandages."_

His words echoed in my mind from the recent memory. I then snuck a glance at my still wrapped hand. My eyes then flickered at the bottle with he clears liquid. His words repeating itself in my mind as my eyes flickered between my hand, and the bottle.

_Oh no_. I thought. _He's gonna clean my wounds right __**now**__._ _Why did I have to wake up right at this point?_ I knew that it was going to sting really bad.

Erik sat next to me on the edge of the bed.

"Let me see your hand." He said in a soft, yet stern tone. He held his bare hand out, waiting for me to accept. I felt my hands become clammy. He wanted me to be the first to touch his hand? _No, I'm sure I'm not the first to touch his hand. . . It's just that not too many people touch his hands, that all._ _He's just so. . . Isolated from the world. Would my contact feel foreign to him?_

My hand reached out for his. I noticed that my hand was trembling. I wasn't sure if I was nervous to simply take his hand, or if I was scared about getting my wounds clean. I tried my best to make my shaking hand stop. _Geez, Clare. Calm down_. I told myself.

I gently placed my hand into his. His hand was actually really soft. Okay, it was _amazingly_ soft. It was as though _no one_ had ever touched his hands. To my astonishment, his temperature felt the same as mine. In the novels, it described Erik having cold hands. I didn't understand. . . They felt perfectly normal to me. I wondered why he even bothered to wear his gloves.

It then hit me. My own hands were always cold. Mine were usually ice cold- no kidding, me and my friends used to joke that I was a vampire. If I found that our temperature were the same, then Erik must truly have cold hands, as they always described. I stared down at our hands. I was utterly dumbfounded. Our hands almost felt like magnets.

Erik gently pulled my hand closer to him, as he began to unravel the white wrap from around my hand and wrist. Erik's voice pulled me away from my thoughts.

"Frankly, I had hoped that you would still be asleep during this. . ." He said with apologetic eyes. He reached the end of the wrap, and gently pulled it off from my wrist.

I felt all of the blood drain from my face when I saw the scene before me. I grew dizzy, and for a moment, I thought I was about to get sick. It was not a pretty sight.

There were large and deep gashes on my wrist. There were two, and one of them was a lot longer and deeper than the other. The cuts were scarlet red where blood still came out. There were dark bruises around the cuts.

On my hand and wrist, there were several dark purple bruises. My knuckles were purple and swollen. There was one large bruise in particular that ran from my pinky all the way to my wrist.

The memory of my almost drowning accident sprang into my mind.

_I pounded my hand against the window. My hand throbbed in pain, but I didn't care. I hit the window, desperate to escape, and taste the sweet air again. It was all useless. The window didn't even budge. . ._

I looked down at the cuts and bruises, with big eyes. It was actually horrifying. It was the cuts on my arm that really shook me up. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I could hear the pulse thumping in my head. All the blood had drained from my face. My stomach was knotting up tighter and tighter. I thought for sure that I would hurl, or pass out cold.

"Mademoiselle, you look faint." Erik pressed his hand against my forehead.

Our temperatures felt the same. His hand did feel pretty soft, though. I felt my heart nearly leap from my chest when he felt my forehead. "Are you alright?" He asked sounding concerned as he removed his hand from my forehead.

I looked up at the ceiling trying to forget ever seeing the wound. The room felt like it was spinning. My stomach knotted up even tighter. I closed my eyes hoping that it would help.

"Y-Yes." My voice was unconvincing. I knew that he would see right through me.

"You most certainly don't look like it." He argued. I wanted to argue and convince him that I was perfectly fine but I decided against it. I knew that if I opened my mouth, I would regret it. Not because I didn't want to start a pointless fight, well that too, but I mainly feared that I would vomit on him if I did. I pressed my lips into a straight line, and tried to think of something else. Anything else.

"Here, lie down, child." He gently touched my shoulder motioning me to do so. I did as he said, and lied back down onto the swan bed. I felt the knots in my stomach loosen a little.

I heard Erik pop off the lid to the bottle with the clear liquid inside. Without bothering to open my eyes, I asked: "What is that?" My voice trembled slightly with fear. I knew that whatever it was, it was going to sting. Erik was a little quiet at first.

"It's something that I made for wounds." He said in a low and calm tone.

"Is it safe?" I asked quickly. I thought he would chuckle, but he remained serious. "Yes." He replied. I was positive that it was going to hurt. I felt my breaths increase with fear. I began to feel queasy all over again. I grinded my teeth together as I waited for the pain to begin. I waited for what seemed like hours. Instead of pain, I was first met with a soft touch on my cheek. Recognizing the familiar soft touch, I realized that it was Erik's hand. It just about instantly soothed me. The knots in my stomach loosened. The room stopped spinning.

"Settle down. It will only hurt for a minute." He said with a stern yet calm tone.

He removed his hand that had held my cheek in a comforting way. Instead, he used his hand to gently grab mine, as he held my arm out.

I kept my eyes closed. I was too afraid to watch. _Calm down, Clare_. I told myself. _Just calm down_.

Something very soft delicately touched the inside of my wound. It was wet and cold- probably the liquid from the bottle. I waited for the pain to kick in. Right on cue, my wound began to burn fiercely. It was _horrible_. It stung deeply in the cut. It felt like my entire arm was on fire.

I cried out in pain. My arm throbbed. I could feel it burning in the depths of my tender wound. I grinded my teeth together. My hands clenched into fists. My right hand throbbed as I made a fist, reminding me that my whole hand was still black and blue from the accident.

The worst part was when Erik used a clean cloth to mop up the left over liquid. After several minutes, the pain began to fade away. My wound was still tender, but it had finally stopped burning. I felt my breathing go back to normal. My heart stopped pounding in my chest, and simply thumped normally.

"The worst part is over." Erik stated. Even he sounded relieved when he said that. I opened my eyes to find him very carefully wrapping my wrist in a white bandage. He wrapped it around my wrist so gently as though I were made from glass. "Your hand is severely bruised but I did not find any cuts, so I decided not to wrap it. I don't believe you broke anything. . ." He mused.

When he was finished wrapping up my wrist he then held out his hand once more. "Let me see your elbow." I had almost completely forgotten that a patch covered my left elbow. I sat up, finding the queasy feeling in my stomach had faded away by then. Sitting up, I turned my left arm exposing the white patch over my elbow.

He removed the patch, revealing a small cut, but a nasty bruise. The cut wasn't very deep. The bruise however, wasn't pretty. The bruise had formed a dark purple color around the cut. Erik gently dabbed the clear liquid on the small cut. I winced when I felt him very carefully touching the tender bruise. I hissed in pain when I felt the liquid burn a little in the cut. It still stung, but it wasn't anywhere near as painful as when he cleaned the cuts on my wrist.

"I don't understand." Erik said dryly. His odd statement made me forget about the sting in my cut. I looked at him in utter confusion. His blue eyes stayed on my elbow. I began to think that maybe the liquid wasn't cleansing properly.

I looked down at the cut on my elbow. I watched as the liquid turned a white color as it cleaned my wound. It almost reminded me of Hydrogen Peroxide. I didn't see anything wrong with the liquid cleaning my wound. I didn't see any crime being done. It seemed to be working just fine.

I looked back at his blue eyes. He continued to look at my elbow. Something told me that his attention wasn't fully on the wound. If anything, he had very little attention on it. In his eyes, I saw that his mind was elsewhere.

"What do you mean?" I finally asked when I couldn't find any obvious wrong solutions. Was I missing something there?

"I don't understand why you are horrified by a few cuts on your arm, but you don't find my horrid face any more terrifying." He said the word horrid in a harsher tone. I half expected to find his eyes hard, but they actually looked very sad.

"Those cuts really _were_ horrifying." I teased as he wiped off the remaining liquid. He cracked a small smile upon hearing my teasing. Though, his smile didn't reach his eyes. It was a sad smile. I felt almost bad for going into a teasing state when really, Erik was practically asking for comforting words instead. I felt my teasing mood change into a serious and comforting one. The same mother and caring instinct I always had in my heart. It was the instinct I always used when I had a friend who needed a shoulder to cry on.

"I don't think your face is horrifying." I said as he carefully rubbed the bandage on my wound.

"Are you blind?" He said in a slight harsher tone. His eyes were full of sadness. I could see that even in his heart, he honestly believed everything that others had said about him. I felt a string to my heart get pulled. I felt so much pity for him. I felt pity that he never had anyone ever tell him kind words.

"No I'm not. Are you?" I asked in disbelief. Erik looked slightly taken aback. "I know that it's not great to have a scar on your face, but I don't think it's anywhere near as repulsive as you claim." I said softly.

He looked at me with eyes filled with emotion. Part of him looked astonished. Another part of him looked overwhelmed by my words. But another part of him looked at me like I was insane, and I didn't know what I was talking about. "Some _scream_ or _faint_ when they see my face." He pointed out sadly.

"What give _them_ the right to judge? Their opinions are stupid." My last sentence came out so blunt and dry. His eyes turned even more sad with doubt from my statement. He looked like he didn't believe what I said like he disagreed with my opinion.

"They _abused_ me. . ." I could see unbearable pain in his eyes. His eyes were pleading for help, but I could see that he didn't quite know how to ask. I desperately wanted to comfort him.

"They were heartless people. . ."

"This face earned a mother's fear and loathing. . ." I could see tears well up in his eyes. I couldn't take it any longer. He needed to be comforted.

I wrapped my arms around him. Erik suddenly froze upon feeling the contact I gave him. I knew that he probably hadn't been hugged before. If I were in his shoes, I would've been desperately yearning to feel someone wrap their arms around me in a caring hug. A hug that said that someone did care. That said that you weren't alone. That said that everything was going to be alright. There were caring arms to share caring words, with even the loneliest souls.

Erik was so caught up being shocked from my contact with him, that he didn't understand that he was being hugged at first. I felt his conscious was slowly processing what he was receiving from me. His arms hesitantly and stiffly wrapped around me in response. His actions showed that he was almost unsure if he was returning the hug correctly.

After a moment, I felt his emotions flood into him as he then tenderly tightened his arms around me, as he pulled me closer to him. He bent his neck down as he buried his face into my shoulder. He looked like he was over whelmed with so many emotions as he hugged me back. It touched a spot in my heart. I caressed the back of his neck with one of my hands. I used the other to gently rub his back. I could feel tears splashing onto my shoulder where he buried his face. My own eyes burned as I realized how much it truly meant to Erik.

"I know that no one has ever cared for you, but I will. I always will." I vowed to him. I was fighting to keep my voice steady. I tried to hold my tears in. It was useless, and I felt them leak out and touch the back of his neck.

Upon hearing my promise, I felt Erik pull me even closer to his embrace. His tears continued to seep out and land on my shoulder. He held me like he was afraid to let go.

"I can't believe that I have to take you home tomorrow. . ." He said as he quietly sobbed into my shoulder. Realization hit me like they were a ton of bricks. I promised him that I would care for him. . . _Always._ But how could I be there for him if I had to leave? I would always care for him in my heart. But how would he know if I wasn't there for him? How long would my vow last?

"You don't know for sure if I'm leaving. . . I don't even know _how_ I got here." I pointed out, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Thank you for caring. . ." He whispered to me.

I felt more tears well up in my eyes. It meant everything to me that I was actually helping the Opera Ghost. "The pleasure was all mine. . ." I felt a watery smile appear on my face. I enjoyed every second of our embrace. I wanted to remember every detail of it. . . Just in case I really _did_ find a way back home. . .

"Thank you so much for cleaning my injuries, Phantom." I said smiling at him. He grinned back down at me. His smile was amazing and heartwarming. It made butterflies dance in my stomach. His smile stole my breath away. I couldn't find the right words for it.

"You are welcome, mademoiselle." He said as he draped the red sheets over me. Smoothing out the sheets, his face changed upon a thought entering his mind. Whatever it was, it made him make an alarmed face. It was actually quite amusing. I bit my lip, trying not to laugh. He looked almost astonished- it was the face that I could imagine him make if he saw a cell phone. Dumbfounded, but puzzled at the same time.

"Forgive me madam, but I never asked for your name." He finally said as he looked at me.

_Ooooh, so that's why he made that face?_ I thought. Because he just realized that he never asked for my name? I was laughing on the inside. _He just made an amusing face, that's all. . ._ Seeing the Opera Ghost puzzled. . . It was priceless. I smiled at him.

"Clare." I gently took his hand, that he was still using to smooth out the sheets, into mine. He looked utterly dumbfounded upon how I suddenly grabbed his bare hand. It still felt so soft to me. His hand remained the same temperature as mine.

"Clare Irene Cameron. . ." I said as I shook his hand. "And it's nice to meet you too, Monsieur Opera Ghost. . ." I smirked, raising an eyebrow, pointing out to Erik that it was his turn to exchange _his_ name. I smiled playfully as I teased with him. I wanted to see if he would actually admit that his name was Erik. It would make things so much easier for me. I wouldn't have to continue to call him by _Phantom._ Also, that way he wouldn't demand for answers if I had called him by his real name.

Erik understood my teasing. He knew very well that he never bothered to tell me his name, before. But, since he was the Phantom of the Opera, his name was classified. I didn't think he planned to tell me his name. Erik's eyes looked amused. His lips curled into a playful smirk. He quickly caught on with what I was saying.

"Or would you prefer _Phantom?_" I smirked at him. "Or perhaps a reasonable name. . ?" I added in, strongly referring to his real name.

He _knew_ that I was trying to get him to tell me his name. I could see it in his eyes. His smirk widened.

"Either of the first two would fit _reasonably_." He shot back playfully. "And it's a pleasure to meet you, Clare. . ." He said, testing the sound of my name with his own voice for the first time. He shook my hand with a firm yet soft grip. Ah, okay, I absolutely loved how soft his hands were. People would complain that his hands were so cold. Well, since I also had cold hands, Erik's felt perfectly fine to me. I also always imagined that his hands would be hard, but I was wrong. They're soft. Who would've thought?

To my dismay, Erik pulled his hand away after shaking hands with me.

"Goodnight, Clare. . ." He whispered as he blew out the candles. He walked towards the main room. I could see lit candles glow from the other room, and they glowed over Erik's form. The glow casted a shadow behind Erik's body.

"Goodnight, _Phantom_. . ." I said still half teasing. I heard Erik chuckle upon him not revealing his true name. He then disappeared into the other room. He seemed to find it funny that I was trying so hard to get him to share his name. . . And he still didn't reveal it.

A melody from his organ began to fill the whole lair as he played it. I didn't mind- it was nice to fall asleep to it.

"Nice to meet you too, _Erik_. . ." I muttered to myself before drifting to sleep.

**I think that's the end of this chapter!**

**Yeah, I know, there's been a lot of tears in this story. But, this is hurt/comfort, after all. Well, I hoped you guys still liked it! Please review! It makes my day. **

**I'll try to get the next chapter up soon. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	6. Aid My Heart

**Oh my goodness, thank you so much for all of the reviews! I half expected to only find a review or two, but I found much more after only the first day. Thank you so much guys! Your reviews make my day!**

**Well, sorry for the later update. But it's here!**

**I do not own The Phantom of the Opera or its songs. I only own my OC.**

**Enjoy!**

"Well, I gotta start heading home." I said as I looked at the time on my phone. My two friends glanced at me, looking a little bummed.

"Aww. . . But this was so fun!" Veronica whined a little.

"Yes, it was, but I have to go." I said sadly. "But, are you guys interested in coming again next week?" I asked them. They both nodded, already looking forward to it.

"Yeah, and now I know that I should never get a salad here ever again. . ." Mina gently pushed away the salad bowl. The salad had barely been touched that evening. She had only nibbled on it, and instantly regretted not picking the burger instead. "I've always liked the burgers here. So I think next time I'll pick that. The salad here was just. . ." Mina's curly brown hair bounced as she shuttered.

Veronica took out a small mirror from her purse and re-dabbed lip gloss on, and commented that her and her boyfriend were going to the movies that night. Mina and I smiled at her. We were both very happy for her. Veronica checked her blonde hair making sure it was okay. She tried to smooth out practically every little snarl. "Your hair's fine." Mina chuckled as she rolled her eyes.

But of course, Veronica didn't put the mirror away until she was satisfied with her hair and makeup.

We all eventually said our goodbyes, and I headed towards the parking lot. I heard my friends drive away as I walked towards my car. I quickly took out my cell phone and sent a message to my mom.

_Comin home. B there in 15min_

I slipped my cell phone in my pocket, and neared my volkswagon bug. It was definitely a girl car, but I still loved it. _Hmm. . . What CD should I listen to?_ I thought to myself. I was about to pull open the yellow car door, when a hand suddenly grabbed my wrist. It was a very strong grip. The hand jerked me back, causing a scream to escape from me. Before I knew it, I was thrown in a car. The door was slammed shut, and the car sped down the road.

My head hit something hard in the car. I groaned in pain. My heart quickened as I realized what had just happened. _W-Was I just kidnapped?_ _ Oh my gosh, no, no , NO!_ _I never thought that I would be abducted!_

I opened my eyes, finding that I was in the passenger seat. I turned in the seat to look at the driver.

A guy about my age or slightly older was driving. He had dirty blonde hair. I studied his features, and found that I didn't recognize him at all.

_"What are you doing?" _ I practically screamed at him. He looked at me with brown eyes. His brown eyes looked utterly panicked. _Why? He's_ the one who kidnapped me. Why did he look so scared, then?

I suddenly heard police sirens from behind us. I looked back realizing that we had run a red light. I had to get out of here! _What if we get in a car accident? I __**hope**__ the police catch us!_ Then I could explain to them that the man had dragged me there against my will. The guy was dangerous. He probably had a sick twisted mind.

I looked at the car door. Maybe I could open it, and roll out.

_No_. I thought. I would be killed. We had to be going fifty miles per hour. . . twenty miles _over_ the speed limit. I couldn't risk it.

"Stop the car!" I screamed at him. The man completely ignored me. We zipped down the street, passing by cars. He then cut across the other lane, just barely avoiding the cars. I screamed when he nearly collided with one of the cars. My fingers dug into the seat in pure fear.

_I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die!_ I thought as tears sprang to my eyes. My cars honked their horns at us as they swerved out of our way in panic and anger. Several police cars chased after us by then. Their sirens were screaming behind us.

The tires screeched as we made a sharp turn into another street. We passed by a very large lake with a bridge. I had always admired the area. I thought it was pretty with the green tree's around it. . .

The guy suddenly turned directly towards the lake. _This guy is insane!_

The guy swung open the car door and jumped out. I was utterly horrified. The car continued to drive towards the lake. I was in a moving vehicle, without a driver. _NO! Gosh, no!_

I leaped to the driver's seat. I desperately tried to slam on the brakes. I didn't stop it in time, though. The car drove right off the cliff, and plummeted towards the water.

_"NO!"_ I screamed.

**ERIK'S POV:**

_Clare._ It was a nice name. The name fit her very well. She was a very kind young woman. Not many people have seen my face, and _didn't_ draw back in fear. The only other person who did that, was Madam Giry.

It was nice to know there were _some_ soul's here, who weren't repulsed by my horrid face. But, _how?_

When Clare saw my face, her eye's had widened and I even heard her gasp. I had felt hurt, and astonished at once. I was astonished that she didn't scream. Instead, she looked shocked at the most. Even thought she didn't look repulsed by the shocking site that I sadly call my face, her eyes grew. Her shocked face had still upset my heart. It was impossible for someone to see my face without some reaction. Even though she didn't look repulsed, it was her astonished eyes that hurt me. She tried to tell me that she was utterly surprised that I was real. Was it true? Had she only been surprised?

I had been very hesitant to believe her, but with the kindness she had been showing me, I felt like I could trust her.

_Trust. . ._ The word sounded rather. . . _Unnatural_ when I used it. I couldn't trust very many people. I could trust Madam Giry, and Clare. . . But not another soul. I thought that I could trust Christine, but I was proved wrong. She saw my face the same day I had found Clare in my lake. I couldn't fully trust Christine. Not yet. Not until she was mine.

If only that. . . That _boy_ would leave. And if Christine could only look past my face. . . I'm her Angel of Music. . .

I glanced down at my music sheets.

_The Music of the Night_

I sang it to Christine. . . I had also hummed it to Clare when she went into a fit of tears. I couldn't stand to see an innocent girl cry like that. It was all entirely my fault. I had instantly felt regretful when I saw those tears fill in her eyes, all because of my anger. I needed to control my anger. I was actually horrified by my own anger. I really was a monster, wasn't I? For that short moment, I had lost control.

Unfortunately, I developed an anger problem at a young age. The world never showed any kindness to me. They laughed when they abused me, and drew away in fear when my face was revealed.

Why? Why did I have to be cursed with _this_ as my face? What did I do to deserve it? And because of my face, I'm also cursed with suffering from loneliness. No one ever dared to go near me. Why must life be so cruel?

I felt so horrible for becoming mad at Clare. I didn't mean to snap at her like that. I was utterly baffled that she knew so much about me. It made me feel so. . . Threatened. Because of my past, I became mad when I felt threatened. It was my emotional mask. It was the way to protect myself from emotional or physical harm. It was how I defended myself.

Once I had seen Clare practically run from me, I felt utterly repulsed by my actions. I had never felt such regret. I was horrified to see that a monster had been unleashed from me.

I was fortunate to have found Clare. She was the first person to say kind words to me. . . She was the first person to _hug_ me. No one had ever tried to go anywhere near me like that. For once, in my entire life, I felt like a normal person. She was a breath of fresh air.

When she first hugged me, I didn't know what she was doing. When I realized that she was willingly hugging me, I just broke down. It was the nicest thing that anyone had ever done for me. _I cannot believe that I have to take her home tomorrow. . ._ I nearly wept with sorrow as the thought entered my mind.

I wasn't entirely sure where she lived, but it seemed to trouble her that she had to leave. That would forever remain a mystery to me. _Why did she want to stay?_

She had cried that she had to go, but she didn't wish to. I remembered how I held her close to me when she sobbed into my neck. I desperately wanted to comfort her. An innocent soul like hers shouldn't cry tears like how I had my whole life. . . She didn't deserve it.

I had carried her, a sobbing girl, back to my lair. Usually I never would have done that. But she was an exception. She was a very dear friend. I remembered that when she was crying, I caressed her close to my chest. Close to my heart. Close to my empty, lonely heart. I felt hat if I held her close to my heart, then maybe it could stop her tears. I desperately held her close to me, hoping that I could for once feel love and comfort in my own heart. Maybe her soul could fill mine with her kindness. Mine desperately longed for love and care from another. I thought that maybe if I held her close to my heart then my heart could finally taste and savior the sensation of love. Every time I caressed her close to my chest, I became overwhelmed with emotion.

I kept pulling her closer and closer to my chest, as my heart begged for more of her caring words. Her caring soul and heart.

She would always be dearly loved and cherished in my heart. I could not have asked for a nicer friend. . .

She wouldn't have been there if I hadn't saved her that night. I wouldn't have those dear memories, words, and comfort from her, caressed in my heart. Just the thought made me grow speechless.

I remembered the night when I had found her.

I had been pacing back and forth thinking of how I had lost control of my anger in front of Christine. I had brought her back, and I had been trying to calm down. Later that night, after I had finished another master piece, I decided to turn into the night, and rest. When I stood up from my organ and turned, I spotted a figure in the lake.

At first, I was furious, as I thought an intruder snuck into my lair. As I neared closer to the figure, I realized that it was a girl. . . She was floating face down in the water. I knew that she was too young to die.

I had rushed out into the waist deep water. I picked her up, and brought her to shore. I thought that she had already drowned, but I decided to try to save her anyways. . .

I was very grateful that I saved Clare. As long as I was around, I was going to make sure that nothing would ever harm her. I would even control the horrid beast in me. Her kindness made me realize that maybe the world wasn't as cruel as I had thought. I didn't want to terrorize such a sweet soul like hers. I would never scare her ever again. I couldn't make her cry like that. I couldn't stand to see her scared due to my actions. I couldn't bare it.

Playing the organ, a new melody came to mind. I played the melody a few times. Getting out a paper, and my ink pen, I hastily wrote the melody before it could escape my mind.

Before I knew it, I had a beautifully written masterpiece before my eyes. I gazed down at my hands. My hands had only been touched by another's hands, twice. Only twice in my entire life.

First, Madam Giry. She held my hand as we ran, when she helped me escape from the gypsies.

The second person was Clare. I expected her hands to be warm like everyone else's. I was proven wrong. To my astonishment, they were the same temperature as mine. Certainly, that must mean they were cold like mine? Some say that a person with cold hands had a warm heart. I always found that absurd since my heart was anything but warm. But surly, I was proven wrong once more when I touched her hands. She had hands like mine, but her heart was warm like no other. Her hands were also very soft. . .

I remembered how she shook my hand. It took me by surprise, since that time she took my hand willingly. Before that, when I had asked to see her hand so that I could clean her wounds, she looked very hesitant.

Christine held my hand. Although I didn't count it since I was wearing gloves. I wore them so I wouldn't frighten her with my cold hands. Only Madam Giry and Clare had _truly_ held my hand. . . I didn't even recall my own mother holding my hand. . .

I then remembered how Clare strongly pointed out that I hadn't shared my name with her. No one was supposed to know my name. _Erik_. . .

I didn't plan to tell her. The name brought too many unhappy memories, that I was forced to call my past.

I had to admit, it was fairly amusing to see Clare pouting to hear my name. Did she really think that she could trick The Opera Ghost? Silly child. Although, it was actually horrifying that she knew so much about my past. No one was supposed to know that much about me. . . No one. . .

She said that she knew so much because of where she came from? **_Why_**_ did America know so much about me?_ She said I wouldn't listen.

When she was sleeping she had muttered the word _'home'_. She had also questioned what year it was. . .

Could it be that the real question is not _where_ she lives, but _when?_

No. . . No, that was absurd. . .

I jumped from my thoughts when an ear piercing scream came from Clare's bedroom. It was so loud, and it rang through the whole lair. Sudden fear rushed into my heart. I leaped from the bench by my organ. I heard it clatter on the ground as I raced to Clare.

What could possibly be wrong? Was she simply having a nightmare? Or was she hurt?

I ignored the ringing in my ears from her scream as I ran into the bedroom.

**I think that's the end of this chapter! Wow, it's really short. I'm gonna try to get my next chapter up again this weekend, but I can't promise anything. **

**Cliff hanger! Geez, so much drama. I can't figure out if this fits more as drama or angst, instead of hurt/comfort. Well, I hoped you guys still liked it! So, was Clare having a nightmare, or was it real? Thank you again for all the reviews from the last chapter. Well, thanks for reading, and please review! It makes my day!**


	7. A New Loss

**Aww, I love you guys so much! Thank you for all of the reviews!**

**Well, I do not own the Phantom of the Opera or its music!**

**Enjoy!**

**_. . ._**

**CLARE'S POV:**

I screamed in fear_. Oh my gosh! NO! Why did this have to happen to me?_ I watched in horror as the car was only a second away from hitting the water. . . and I would be trapped in it. _No!_ I screamed, with horrible terror clenching to my heart.

I jolted upwards as another scream escaped from me. My shoulders knocked into something hard. My eyes snapped open, and the image suddenly changed all around me. I looked around franticly as the car plummeting towards the lake, was soon replaced with Erik's swan bedroom.

I was met with the scent of candles, and roses. . . _Erik_. . .

The hard thing that my shoulders knocked into was Erik. I realized that I was still sitting in the red swan bed. As soon as my shoulders knocked into Erik, I felt his arms wrap around me.

I was hyperventilating from my nightmare. My heart was pounding-it had to be going a hundred miles per hour. I was trembling with horrid fear. My nightgown clung to my skin with sweat. The sheets had been kicked off from me. Right then, I realized that my face was wet with tears.

"Shh. . ." Erik hushed gently. I realized that I was in Erik's arms. Panicked tears leaked from my big green eyes. I wrapped my arms around Erik in response. "It was just a nightmare. . ." He whispered in his velvet voice. He gently rubbed soothing circles on my back.

The nightmare came flooding back to me. As I recalled the events I began to tremble even worse.

"No, Phantom. . ." I whispered in horror. "It wasn't just a nightmare." My voice was unsteady and my breaths were rapid and shallow. My heart thumped hard in my chest, to the point I thought it was going to explode. Fear gripped onto my heart, and it wouldn't loosen. I felt so horrified that I could just about faint in utter terror. I drew in a shaky breath.

"I. . . I regained my memory. I-I remember what h-happened. . ." I whispered as my voice cracked. I couldn't hold back my tear. I sobbed into his neck, once more. My tears soaked into his shirt. Erik pulled me into a tighter embrace. "Shh. . ." He tried to hush my sobs. "Tell me, Clare, what happened?" He gently rubbed my back. The way how he was comforting me, struck a sensitive nerve, and made me become even more emotional. I sobbed as I remembered the dream that I sadly called a memory.

"It was horrible. . ." I sobbed. I couldn't control my tears-they wouldn't stop. They continued to seep out making me believe that I could never stop them. He pulled me closer to his chest.

"You're safe now." He whispered. Even through me tears, I nearly melted when I heard his voice.

"Shh. . ." He continued to try and comfort me. He would never understand. Now that I knew what happened, I was just about sure that I couldn't go home. I was in the car, and we drove into a lake. I was drowning, and I magically appeared _here_. Over two hundred years into the past. In _France_. Under the Opera House, in _Erik's_ lair.

It was a mystery of how I ended up there, and it would always be a mystery of how I could ever get back. I wondered what my family and friends were thinking. I had originally texted my mom after dinner, saying that I would be home in fifteen minutes. And now, I was almost three days late. This, _this _was just horrible. I was going to miss my family and friends.

_I'm. . . I'm sorry._ I thought. I desperately wished they could hear me.

_I'm sorry that I wasn't more careful about taking care of myself. I'm sorry that I didn't feel more caution when I was out in the dark world. I'm sorry, mom, that my last text will forever haunt you. I'm so sorry that I can't tell you all, that I'm okay. . ._

_I'm so sorry that we have lost all connection. I'm so sorry that I have disappeared off the face of the earth. Veronica, Mina, I'm so sorry that I won't be able to come to our dinner date. Veronica, I'm sorry that I won't be able to ask how your date with your boyfriend was._

_Mom, dad, I'm so sorry that you cannot continue to watch me grow. . . I'm horribly sorry that our past memories will forever haunt us all. . ._

_I'm so __**so**__ sorry. . ._

I went into a horrible fit of sobs. I couldn't return. Even if I wanted to. Fate wouldn't let me. I wanted to stay here, but I wanted my family and friends to know that I was okay. That I was not dead. That I still love them very much. I knew that by now, they probably thought I was gone. Their lives had been completely shattered. . . That the most precious sixteen years had been wasted.

It hurt me deeply. It was just horrible. How could someone bare that torture? It was one of the cruelest things that life could do.

"It's alright Clare. . . You can talk when you're ready." He said in a low and soothing tone. I tightened my arms around Erik. . . He was all that I had now. . . I cherished our friendship. He was everything to me. . . I had to tell Erik where I was really from. I _had_ to. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to explain my nightmare/memory very well.

Gosh, he was going to think that I'm insane. I might lose the one thing that I still have. But, it would kill me if I didn't tell him. It was hard to have a friend when they didn't _truly_ know you.

_Gosh no, I don't want to lose him, too! He's all I have, and right now I need him the most_. If he was going to believe me, I needed to show him proof that I was really from the future. But, what proof did I have?

I came there with nothing but the clothes on my back. Did I have anything in my pockets, perhaps?

My heart skipped a beat.

Wait a second. . . I-I had my cell phone! I had it with me when I was abducted-I remembered that I had texted mom _right_ before I was kidnapped. Fight after the text, I had put my phone in my pocket. Was it still in my jean pocket?

I forced myself to pull away from Erik's comforting embrace. It felt almost wrong to pull away. Confusion showed in Erik's eyes. A moment later, his eyes were filled with hurt. I could see that in his eyes, he felt that I pulled away because of him. Like it was his fault, since he claims that he was a repulsive and horrible monster. That he was simply unwanted by others. I could see his pain written all over his face.

_Erik_. . . I wanted to tell him. _Don't be jumping to conclusions. I'm not like that. I absolutely love you_. . .

I looked to my right, finding my original twenty first century clothing draped over the dresser. I stood up from the red swan bed, finding my legs stiff. They ached a little, but I ignored it. I walked to the dresser, and looked at my clothes. I found my dark blue jeans-my clothes were still damp from the water.

_Shit. What if my phone is ruined? Hmm . . . _

I remembered that Mina had the same phone as me. And she once claimed that our phones were water proof because she once dropped hers in the pool at some birthday party. She said that it still work's afterwards.

Usually I would've _highly_ doubted it, but I hoped she was right. My friendship with Erik depended on it.

_Ugh, what am I thinking? _I knew that my phone was probably dead. Even though Mina had the same phone as mine, hers was supernatural compared to my phone. You could throw her phone across the parking lot, and it would still work. Instead, if I simply dropped mine, it nearly broke into pieces.

Well, just having my phone with me is proof. So even if it didn't work, I would still have a piece of the future. I just hoped it was still in my pocket. . .

I picked up my jeans, feeling happy just to feel the familiar material. I dug my hand into the back pocket. Even through tears, I felt so relieved to feel the very familiar rectangle shaped devise in the pocket. I smiled-a watery grin. I was extremely fortunate to pull out my cell phone. I gently pressed on of the buttons, and nearly squealed when the screen lit up. Holding my cell phone close to me, I sat back down on the red swan bed in front of Erik.

I saw confusion on his face when he saw my watery smile. He curiously eyed what I was clutching close to me. I saw that in his mind, he was processing that whatever it was that I was holding, meant a lot to me at the moment. I felt like I was holding a handful of gold. My phone had never felt so precious before. Maybe, just maybe Erik could believe me when I told him I was from the future. Maybe, our friendship had been saved. _Please, __**please**__ believe me. . ._

Despite the hope I felt shining in my heart, I became very serious.

"Phantom," I looked at him with hopeful, yet pleading eyes. "Remember when I said I wasn't from here?" I tried to keep my voice steady. My heart thumped hard. It was all so nerve racking for me. _My goodness, please believe me_. I thought, begging. _You're all I have left. . ._

"Oui, Clare. I also recall saying that I would take you home." He reminded me. He looked at me confused, trying to figure out my reasons for bring it up.

I took several deep breaths, feeling fear take over my heart. I feared that he wouldn't believe me, and began to think that I was an insane girl. I wouldn't blame him for thinking that.

"What are you trying to tell me?" He demanded as he eyed me warily. He looked at me with his powerful blue eyes. His stare made me feel almost vulnerable.

"It was very kind of you to offer taking me home, but I'm afraid that's impossible." I felt my recent tears hit me again as I remembered my loss. _Goodbye family and friends. . . I will always love you. . ._

Why did this have to happen?

Erik continued to stare at me, utterly confused. His eyes signaled me to continue.

"My home would take two hundred years to reach, even if we left in the morning." I held back a taunting chuckle at my last statement. I could then feel the hard part coming. The truth impatiently poked me harshly, reminding me that Erik was waiting for me to explain.

"I do not understand what you are trying to tell me, Clare." He admitted once more. He voice was very low.

I felt an uneasy emotion wash over me. It was uncomfortable for me, that he didn't understand. It led to more explaining. I just wanted to escape it as soon as possible. When he didn't understand, I felt almost. . . Foolish. I guess I felt foolish because I figured that I wasn't making any sense. And that alone made me look like an idiot.

Although I still felt that I had to tell Erik the truth. Since I had started the topic, I had all of his curiosity, and full attention. There was no going back. _I might as well come out with it all. . ._ I was about to breathe out Erik's name to begin, but I quickly caught myself before I could manage the _E_ in his name.

"Phantom. . ." I breathed out, while I mentally scolded myself for nearly slipping his real name.

I closed my eyes, feeling utterly dreadful about the topic. I had been dreading it for all too long. I was exhausted of keeping the truth locked away. I _had_ to come out with it.

"I. . .I. . ." All the words I had to say suddenly disappeared in the air. Even though I refused to open my eyes, I could feel Erik's strong gaze on my closed eyes, as he intensely waited for me to continue. His eyes were practically urging me to spill the secrets out. Why did his eyes have to be so strong? It made me feel uneasy. It made the palms of my hands sweat. It made my heart stall.

"I have to tell you something." I squeaked out. I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I finally gathered enough courage to look at him. I found that he was already looking at me.

Erik's eyes were sincere. "What is it?" He asked in a softer tone. Through his soft eyes, I saw how concern lingered there as well. Just then, I realized that my eyes had welled up with more tears. My heart quickened with fear. My truth had to be admitted. . . _And I might lose everything that I now and only have._

"I-I don't know if you will believe me, b-but I just ha-have to tell you." My voice was trembling. My tone was so quiet, that even I had a hard time hearing myself. It came out as a whisper. Fear was taking over my heart. I tried to stay calm, but the truth was eating me alive.

I was surprised that Erik had actually heard me when he softly said: "Everything is alright, Clare. Please continue." It almost sounded like a beg. Concern gripped tightly to his words.

The truth gripped harshly onto my heart. _Prepare to lose everything, Clare._ I thought. My stomach turned in fear.

"I-I'm not from here-I'm from. . ." My voice was trembling horribly. My eyes were leaking tears. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

"I'm from the future." I forced myself to say it before I could change my mind.

The air grew quiet. The silence was so painful. I held my breath. _Please believe me!_ I was pleading on the inside. _You're all I have!_ It was a horrible, stomach churning moment.

I felt his eyes staring at me intensely. It made the air grow hot, and made me nearly sweat in his gaze. I had never felt so uneasy before.

I looked into his eyes, hesitantly. I nearly jumped when I saw his eyes already staring into mine. His eyes were so incredibly strong, that I felt like I could shrink under his gaze. His emotions were unreadable. It was straight, yet hard at the same time. It was nerve racking for me. I felt like I had walked into a trap, and there was no going back. I felt like a mouse being monitored by a cat. I couldn't look away from his powerful eyes, even if I wanted to. His blue eyes held onto mine, and looking away simply wasn't an option. I felt almost mind controlled. Like he wouldn't _let_ me look away, as he studied my eyes. I was captured in his gaze. There was no going back. His eyes stared straight into my soul as he tried to read the truth in my words.

His emotions were hard to read. I searched his eyes, hoping to find answers. I tried to look into the depths of his light blue topaz eyes. Where his emotions lied. It was so hard to read just one emotion. It was a mix of many emotions. There were so many, that it was overwhelming. It stole my breath away as I tried my best to read him.

_Erik. . ._ I wanted to say. _Please believe me. ._ .

I desperately wanted to be in his arms as he comforted me. But, I feared that I would not be able to taste the feeling again. His eyes were so unreadable, that I feared that he didn't believe me. Or he believed that I was simply insane. Why _wouldn't_ he think that?

I magically appeared in his life, who knew too much about him, who constantly struggled not to go into a sobbing fit, and now claimed that I was from the future. _Geez, I really have been a mess lately_. . . I had never cried so much in my whole life. Erik had just seen me at the wrong time. My life was a mess at the moment. He probably thought I had an emotional problem.

_Please Erik, you are all I have!_ I thought once more. His expression remained the same. _Dammit, answer me!_ I was crying on the inside.

Pain. And horror. They both hit me like waves at a beach. They restlessly hit me, constantly. The waves were too strong, and they pushed me under the water. They continued to drag me under, over and over, until reality faded away. I felt like I was drowning in pain and horror. _I. . .I don't think Erik believes me. . . No. . . __**No**__. Have I lost everything?_

. . .

**Cliff hanger! And wasn't I right when I said I would update this weekend? Yes, I updated just for you guys!**

**So, does Erik think Clare's insane? Has Clare lost everything? We'll just have to find out in the next chapter.**

**Remember when I said that I originally wrote this in a notebook for myself? Well, I'm starting to catch up with where I'm currently at in my notebook. There's still a chapter a head in my notebook, so I'm gonna cut the chapter into several chapters on here. No, the story isn't coming to an end yet! Not any time soon. There's still many chapters to come! But don't panic if some of the chapters update a little later than usual. I'm still trying to write the story.**

**But I hope you guys liked this chapter! Please review! It makes my day!**


	8. Gravity

**Aww, thank you so much for all of the review's! Each and every review makes my day. Thank you so much guys!**

**I do not own The Phantom of the Opera- I only own my OC. **

**Enjoy!**

**. . .**

It's the most terrible feeling that had ever gripped onto my heart. There were no words. That moment you realize that you have truly lost everything, you are met with a cold silence. . .

_"Please. . ."_ My begging came out as a strangled sob. "Please, believe me!" I cried weakly. Tears sprang to my eyes. I choked onto my own sobs. I closed my eyes trying to force all of my haunting memories to leave me at once. Why- _Why_ did this have to happen? Why couldn't things go back to the way they were? "Please," I sobbed out. "You're _all_ I have left." I admitted. Feeling those words form on my lips caused more tears to seep out.

"Shh. . . Breathe, Clare. . ." He said in a low tone. I couldn't believe that he actually responded the absurd truth that I spoke of. I had thought for sure that he would get up and leave, once I said I was from the future. Finding him still here, I felt hope linger in my heart. Before it would leave me, I tried to explain. "Phantom, I know you probably think that I'm insane, but _please_ let me explain. I have p-proof that I'm from the future." My words came out so frantic. I handed him my purple cell phone that I had been hiding behind, in my hands. It grew slightly moist from when I clutched it in my clammy hands.

Erik looked down at my cell phone that I had shoved into his hands. He looked confused. "T-That is my cell phone. Just about everyone in the future owns a cell phone." I explained as he looked at it, curiously. "I-It allows us to talk to others from a far distance." I rambled on.

Erik brushed this thumb over the purple cover on my phone. "What material is this devise made from?" He asked, not taking his eyes off my phone. He looked at it curiously. He looked at it, like how I had imagined. . . With the silly face he made. Seeing Erik look at my cell phone with interest, brought my hopes up. I could feel it spark in my heart. Despite my tears, I felt my lips tug up into a grin. "Plastic." I smiled weakly at him.

He tore his eyes away and met my gaze for a moment. "Plastic?" He repeated after me. "I've never heard of this material. . ." He looked back down at my phone. Erik held my phone with care, as though it were glass.

"There's an awful lot of it in the future." I added in. Erik looked at it as though it were gold. He brought it to his face so he could get a better look. "This is very interesting. . ." He mused. His eyes were big as he studied it. His mouth was ajar. His expression was amusing. I gave him a watery smile.

He looked at the numbers on the buttons. Erik must had pressed some of the buttons, because the screen lit up, causing a bright glow in the room. The sudden light in the dark room startled Erik. His hands sprang away from my phone in response. My phone softly flopped on the red sheets of the swan bed.

I was taken aback from Erik's reaction. _Is the oh-so-tough Opera Ghost afraid of my purple cell phone?_ Erik looked at my phone as though it were the plague. Shock was written all over his face. I burst into a fit of laughter. _Okay, __**now**__ his face was priceless! Did I really just see The Phantom, The Opera Ghost, spazz out from the light that came from my phone?_

I knew that the light must had simply startled him- it probably blinded him, too.

Erik's whole body had recoiled as far away from my phone, as possible. He looked as though he was afraid that my phone was going to attack him. Erik kept his distance away, as he stared at it with his big blue eyes. His chest rose and fell rapidly, as though he had run a mile.

_Oh my gosh, was Erik. . . Afraid? This is the first._ I was laughing so hard, that at first I didn't even notice Erik shooting me a glare. _"What?"_ He snapped as he tried to cover up his embarrassment. _Wait, now he's embarrassed? This was Erik, we're talking about. Oh my gosh, where's the camera?_ I thought to myself. I tried to quiet my laughing fit. When I started laughing, I couldn't stop. I was known to do that. It was more embarrassing when that happened in class. . . By the time I had finally stopped, I was gasping to catch my breath. "I'm sorry! But you don't have to be afraid of my cell phone!" I giggled. I then gestured towards the glowing phone. "It's normal for that to happen."

Erik's eyes flickered between me and my phone, making sure it was safe. His breathing began to calm down to its original state. "It's supposed to blind me?" He asked in disbelief. He looked at me with big eyes. I giggled. "Sorry, I should have warned you." I reached over and picked up my cell phone.

Erik was hesitant, but he regained his original posture. I scooted closer to him. Gazing at my cell phone, I saw a few random numbers sprawled out on the white screen. They were the numbers that Erik had pressed by accident. "See these numbers?" I gestured my finger towards the glowing screen. I looked back at Erik. He squinted against the light. Glancing around the room, I found that besides a few candles, the only source of light came from my phone. The rest of the room was dark. My eyes automatically flickered back to Erik. It felt like my eyes were magnetically pulled to stare at him. My eyes wandered all over his face, taking in and admiring all the details in his face.

Even the long dark sideburns looked good on him. As he narrowed his light blue eyes towards the light from my phone, small wrinkles formed around his eyes. His skin looked cleanly shaven, and soft. I had to be sitting at the perfect spot, because I got a good angle on his face. And by that angle, I only saw one half of his face. I couldn't even see the white mask that stuck to the other side of his face. It almost convinced me to think that he wasn't ever wearing a mask. If I had never met him before, I wouldn't have even thought that a mask was on the other side, from this angle. Even if the left side of his face was scarred, I found that right side of his face was quite attracting. _He does look very handsome. He just hasn't seen it. _My goodness, I just wanted to touch his face.

I had a strong urge to pull off his mask, and kiss his face. I somehow managed to stay put. It was hard to tolerate it, but I got by.

Gosh, even his lips looked soft and more so untouched than his hands. It was actually really sad when I thought of it that way. _Poor Erik. . ._ I continued to stare at his face. He looked at my phone, oblivious to my stare. I felt my hand twitch slightly as I forced myself not to feel his face. Oh man, I just wanted to touch his face so bad. _This is killing me!_ I was fighting all the urges I had to feel his face. I wanted to caresses his cheek. To feel and take in every detail of his face. Handsome really was the perfect word to describe him.

"Yes, what are these numbers for?" He asked.

His voice snapped me away from my thoughts. I felt like I had woken from a trance. Just then I realized how close I had lean in closer to his face. It was the danger zone, that if I got any closer, it would send a strong signal that I wanted to kiss him. If I had gotten any closer, I think I really _would_ have kissed him.

I looked away from Erik. My cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. _Don't every do that again, Clare!_ I thought, as I mentally scolded myself. Well, at least Erik was oblivious to how close I had gotten to him. It was really close. I nervously cleared my throat.

"W-Well, this is how you call someone from a far distance." I pointed at the numbers on the screen, trying to brush off my embarrassment. "You push these numbers, and they will appear on the screen." I pressed a random number, and saw a seven pop up on the screen. "After you type out a number, you push this." I pointed at the _ok_ button. "Then, a signal will be sent, and you're able to talk to people. . . But you have to type out a code of number, in order for it to work." I added in.

I looked at Erik. He didn't squint as hard towards the light as his eyes adjusted to it. His mouth remained ajar as he looked at my cell phone with wonder. He almost looked like he was in a daze, trying to figure out the odd device in his hands.

"Forgive me for asking, but how does this. . ." Erik's voice trailed off as he pondered over the right words. "How does this. . . _reach_ others from a far distance?" Slowly tearing his gaze away from my phone, his curious blue eyes met mine. His eyes were full with wonder, and many questions. They yearned to learn more about the little piece that I had from the future. He looked almost. . . Amazed by it. I felt hope swell in my wishful heart.

"In the future, there are these. . ." I pondered over the right words. "Well, there are these cell phone towers. When you type a code of numbers, there's a signal that is sent to the cell phone towers. And the cell phone towers send a signal to whoever you are trying to reach." I looked into Erik's eyes.

He narrowed his eyes at my cell phone, as my words processed through his brain. His mouth remained ajar-I began to wonder if he noticed. I was giggling inwardly.

"I know, I'm probably not making any sense." I shook my head and averted my eyes. I felt so stupid. _Geez, me rambling about the cell phone towers and the future to the Opera Ghost. ._ . Who wouldn't feel stupid?

"No." Erik said firmly. "You are making sense." He admitted. I shot him a questioning glance that he remained oblivious to. "But it's this. . . _cell phone_ that doesn't make sense." He made a face when he said _cell phone_. "I know." I felt my heart sink. I wish it _could_ make sense to him. "This whole topic of how I came from the future sounds stupid. I'm really sorry you that you have to hear me ramble about this." I admitted.

I could feel my own secret unravel right in front of Erik. I was too weak to keep the secret in. I was exhausted of it. I was _sick_ of it. Erik was all I had. I hated that he didn't honestly know me. I hated that I had kept this from him. I hated the guilt that gripped on my stomach. Guilt had turned in my stomach as I thought of how I had kept it from him. Guilt would _not_ leave until my secret came undone. The secret harshly poked my heart.

I just wanted it to end. It was almost painful. I couldn't tolerate it any longer. I could not live my life if I had to keep this secret. I couldn't live my new life. . .

Tears sprang to my eyes. "I know you probably think I'm absolutely insane! I'm so sorry!" I couldn't truly understand _why_ I was apologizing. Was it because I had just proved that I was a girl with an overwhelming emotional problem? That he probably thought I really _was_ insane? That his new friend had kept a secret from him?

"I'm sorry. . ." I said again. I then felt like I had been apologizing that I couldn't return home. I wiped away my frustrating tears, the best I could. "I'm sorry you have to see me like this. I just don't know what to do. I really am from the future-I don't expect you to believe me-" I gasped in air. "I just couldn't bear to keep this bottled up any longer. . ." I wept uncontrollably.

_There._ Most of it had finally come out. It was supposed to make me feel better. Although, I had quite a rude awakening. I did not feel much better. Originally, all the secrets had poked and surrounded me until I thought I would suffocate from the guilt. All my recent memories haunting me. . . Driving me insane. Now that I had said it, I felt more alone than ever. Did Erik believe the absurd truth? Or had I truly lost everything? I wished that things could go back to normal. Although, I wished Erik could understand. . . I didn't even truly know what I wanted anymore. . . I simply wanted to wake up, and find everything to be perfect.

Dropping my phone onto the swan bed in process, Erik suddenly pulled me into his arms. "Shh. . ." He gently rubbed my arm in a soothing manner. "Don't fret, Clare." He reassured in a low tone. "I believe you. . ." Erik was practically rocking me. He held me close to his chest as I wept into his collar bone. My tears stained into his shirt. "W-_What?_" I barely managed to get out. He _believed_ me? I couldn't begin to fathom what had crossed through his mind to make him think that.

_"How?"_ I demanded as my voice cracked. "How can you believe a girl who you just met?" I questioned in a trembling voice. "A girl who just _magically_ appeared from nowhere? A girl who knows, practically everything about you like an insane stalker? Once who _must_ have a serious emotional problem, since she won't stop crying for once!" I could hear my own voice rising in frustration. Who was I mad at now? Erik, or myself? "And now, I'm claiming I'm from the future!" I sighed out with irritation. "Phantom. . . How could you _not_ think I'm insane?" I asked as I lowered my tone.

I buried my face in his chest. Closing my eyes, more tears slipped down from them. Gently breathing in his scent, I felt slight comfort.

"The only reason why I would think you are insane, is for not fainting when you saw my repulsive face." He muttered after a short silence. "You are quite an extraordinary child, Clare. But, you have said yourself that even though exotic is different, it is still beautiful. Or that different is the same as exotic. And through your eyes, exotic is beautiful. . . I think I may agree with you, since you are an exception." He said in a soft tone. "You are a great example in your own words. Your spirit is exotic. I've never seen a soul like yours. . ." He whispered with his velvet voice.

Could it be? _Does he love me back?_ Did he feel a small spark in his hear towards me? Even just a small spark? I looked into his eyes through my tears. My heart grew in utter hope and love.

His eyes were already fixed on mine. They stared very deeply in mine. I saw his visible eyebrow furrow in a sad gesture upon seeing my tears. His blue eyes looked honest. Pure honesty and care giving eyes. His blue orbs were almost cradling my green ones, in love and comfort. _Erik, I love you. . ._

"Clare, you are my only friend, and the one I can trust the most." My hope slowly sunk to the bottom of my heart. My love lingered, as my heart felt like it was let down. _He loves Christine, Clare. Don't forget that. Be the good friend, and help him get together with Christine._ I told myself.

_. . .Friend. . ._ It was the word _friend _that I dreaded hearing. Why would he love me anyways? I had only known him for a few days. Well, he had only known me for a few days. . .

_At least he's your friend, Clare. At least he believes that you're from the future. At least you haven't lost everything. . ._ A small smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. It was small, and almost sad like, but it was still a smile. I hadn't lost him. There was still hope.

"I don't trust too many others. . . But I can trust you. You are the first soul to have been there for me. Do you know how much that means to me?" His fingers gently grazed my jaw. "It pains me to see you so upset. . ." He whispered as he looked at the tears that ran down my face. One of my tears touched his thumb. Erik gently turned his head away as his eyes fell upon my purple cell phone. With his bare hands, he carefully picked it up. This time, he was careful not to push one of the buttons.

"Surely you _must_ be from the future if you were able to bring back this. . ." He pondered as he stared at my phone. "This intriguing devise." He breathed out in awe. "I have _never_ seen anything like this before." Gently setting my phone down, he met my gaze again. "Why _wouldn't_ I believe you, Clare?" He questioned me, softly.

His blue eyes gently looked into mine with care and honesty. His blue eyes made me. . .Made me feel warm. His eyes made my whole body feel warm, like his eyes were a blanket being wrapped around me in a warm and soothing embrace. His eyes held great care.

"Because the truth is absurd." I pointed out. Erik's eyes flashed sadness, upon hearing my words. "I'm so sorry that you've had to see me so upset this whole time. I'm never like this. You've just happened to catch me at my worse state." I tried to keep my voice steady the best I could. "Lately, everywhere I turn, I face more and more confusion. My mind right now is cluttered with a sea of questions, and I've dealt with too many things, all at once. It's all so over whelming. My life has been a mess lately." My voice trembled as I spoke.

I felt tears silently leak from my big green eyes. It was different to pour out the dark and depressing feeling that had swelled in my heart for the last few days. Remembering the recent emotions in my heart made my whole body shake. The emotions were over whelming-it was too much to contain all at once.

I had come face to face with death.

I had lost all but Erik, and haunting memories of my past.

I had battled the warm feeling that welled in my heart when I thought of Erik.

And each time, my heart soon became a cold stone as I remembered that he loved Christine. Not me. I had faced the decision of doing the right thing, over what I truly wanted.

And life had to torment me by forcing the almost forgotten, horrible, memory into my dreams. Why did life force me to remember that? I think I was scarred from it. Making me realize what had happened that night, and realizing that I had lost all connection to life I had known, made me tremble in utter fear. It made me feel so lost. So confused. So scared.

I wished I didn't have to feel like that. I wished all the feelings could leave me at once. I wished I didn't have to be tormented like that. It was too much to bear. All of the memories. . .Questions. . .Emotions. They were all tied together, and were only held by a single thread. The thread was so strong, yet somehow vulnerable. . . I feared that the thin thread would break. I was under so much stress. So much pain. Yet, I felt it all leave when I was with Erik. When I was with him, I felt a strange connection of _home_.

Now that Erik knew about my pain, I found myself desperately seeking for comfort. _Please, __**please**__ make the pain go away!_ I wanted to cry. I wanted to be embraced in his arms, and have my troubles wash away. To feel the nice sensation that I could rest, and not fret and feel tormented for once. Just to know that everything was going to be alright. To know there was still something good in life. . . And that was Erik. . . He may have thought that he was a beast that recluses in the shadows, but he was the light in my life. In my world.

Not the kind of light that comes from the sun, but the moon. At the moment, he was the moon that glowed over my dark world. My friends and family used to be the moon, or even the sun in my world. But, I had lost further contact with them. Although, I had not lost the past memories I had with them. Erik was the moon in my world, but my friends and family were still there. They were the stars. They were distant, but the countless memories of them still lingered in the sky. They were as countless as the

I almost felt like mourning over my loss. Even though they weren't dad, I felt like I had lost them, that very way.

_Erik, please help me find myself again. Help me find the sweet and familiar sensation of joy. Help me laugh again. You are the only one who can do that for me. I know Erik, that you feel like a monster who hides in the shadows. But I'll help you find a light. As long as you help me find it too. I fear that I'm lost in the darkness. My world has fallen dark._

Part of me felt like I was slowly dying. That my life was slowly unraveling in its own sorrow. Sorrow that I didn't know I contained in my soul. I was at my worst state. Life was being wretched for me.

"Tell me," Erik said. "What happened, Clare?"

. . .

**I think that's then end of this chapter! Ooh, a little bit of cliff hanger! So, is Clare gonna tell Erik about her nightmare? And if she does, what will he think of it?**

**You guys didn't really think I was gonna make Erik think that Clare was inane, right? Haha, I'm not that mean. . . Even though my OC is going through an awful lot. Agh, so many tears! It's so much! Well, I dunno about you guys, but I'd be upset too, if I were in Clare's shoes.**

**I had fun with writing how Erik freaked out from the cell phone. XD**

**Well, I want to thank you guys again for all of the reviews! I hope you guys liked this chapter, and please review! Every review makes me really happy. **


	9. Ordinary World

**Aww, I love you guys so much! Thank you for the reviews! Each and every review makes me smile-thank you for all of them! **

**When I was writing this, if I wasn't listening to Phantom of the Opera music, I was listening to a lot of Duran Duran. I listened to Ordinary World many times while I wrote this chapter. For those who aren't familiar to Duran, you should check them out! **

**I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, or Duran Duran. *Pouts* I only own my OC.**

**Well, enjoy!**

**. . .**

The images that replayed in my mind, was too much. Realizing what state I was in, sent instant tears to rush to my eyes. I broke down once more, failing miserably to hold them back. I wept as I realized how lost I really was. I felt almost completely alone. _Almost_.

I wrapped my arms around Erik, desperately seeking for comfort. I wept into his brown vest once more, re-soaking his chest with more tears. "Shh. . .It's alright, Clare." His voice grew in a slightly panicked tone. He sounded utterly concerned. He gently pulled me into his arms. "You're safe Clare. Nothing can hurt you now." Erik was nearly rocking the both of us, as he tenderly clutched me to his chest in a comforting manner.

I found that his vest smelled like him, and I gently breathed it in, feeling comforted by it. Erik gently stroked a hand through my hair. "What happened?" He whispered, repeating the question. I took a couple deep breaths, before finding the courage to explain.

"I was back at home. I had spent the day with my friends, and I was getting ready to leave. . ." I tried to keep my voice steady but I found it more complicated to control than I had thought it would. I drew in a shaky breath. "I was going to get in my car and-" I suddenly stopped. "Wait, do you understand what I mean by a car?" I asked. I looked up, into his eyes, through my glassy ones.

His blue eyes looked into my green eyes, as he tried to process the answer to my question. "I assume that you are talking about a carriage. . ?" He mused.

Part of me wanted to laugh, but I really didn't want to explain it at the moment. "It's. . ._Sorta_ like a carriage. In the future, our carriages look different, but it's the same idea." I explained. I looked away from his eyes as I neared the horrifying part. A new emotion washed over me. It made my stomach turn and knot up tightly. I recognized it as quilt. _Why?_ I questioned myself. It felt like this whole mess was my fault. Maybe if I had been more cautious that night, I wouldn't be in this mess. I wouldn't have been kidnapped if I was more careful. I would still be at home, safe and sound. Not here.

I could feel Erik's eyes trying to stare after mine that stubbornly refused to obey. I could feel his eyes urging me to continue. Not only could I feel that he was anxious to hear my story, but he also gently and soothingly urged me to continue. In a concerned, yet caring manner. His kind blue eyes carefully reminded me that I was safe.

"I-I was about to go home w-when a man suddenly grabbed me, and threw me in his car and drove a-away. . ." I found the words harder to say after each one. Each word re-grew the sickening fear in my stomach that I had felt all too soon. Remembering the terror I had felt that night made tears fall freely from my eyes. My heart was pounding in my chest, as the fear grew in my heart, as well.

Erik grew silent. I tried to calm myself down. _Just breathe, Clare_. I told myself as I gently released the tears. I tried to keep my breaths normal, but they came out shallow. I felt my shoulders quiver from my shallow breaths as I quietly cried.

"Did he. . ._Hurt_ you?" He asked in a low tone, after a long silence. He sounded horrified and greatly concerned. In his hesitant sentence, I swore that I detected anger gripping to his words. He sounded repulsed. I shook my head. "No, he didn't. But I think he was going to." I admitted greatly horrified by it. I felt my lip twitch. Hearing those words come from my own mouth made more tears build up in my eyes. What was wrong with the world? Why did there have to be so many sick people out there?

Erik was utterly silent. I felt a muscle in his arm twitch. His whole body grew tense. I felt his chest slowly build up in a new pattern. His chest rose and fell in a choppy and rapid pace. He exhaled sharply, and his breath grazed the top of my head.

Was Erik mad? I stiffly craned my head back to look at him. Through my blurred vision, I found myself dumbfounded when I saw his eyes tinted with red, yet they were filled with rage and disgust. His jaw was clamped shut, and his temples twitched. I watched as a vein began to poke out from his forehead. For a moment, I thought his face would grow red. His eyes stare through the wall, and I swore that I saw his eyes become moist. The muscles worked in and out of his jaw.

"I won't let anyone hurt you." He whispered. His voice nearly trembled as he tried to contain his anger. I watched as he gently closed his eyes, and relaxed the muscles in his jaw. "What happened, then?" He asked once he began to calm down.

"The police began to chase us. In the end, the man drove the car into a lake." I closed my eyes, feeling tears taking over. My heart was racing as I remembered how the car drove towards the water. "H-He jumped out of the car, and I was still in it when it drove off the c-cliff-and into the w-water." My voice was uncontrollably shaking. My whole body quaked as I cried. I gasped in shallow breaths as I tried to control my tears. I shook in Erik's arms. "I-I was drowning-and-and. . ." My voice cracked. It was all too much for me.

"You awoke here. . ?" He asked, finishing my sentence for me. His voice grew softer. I nodded. "Y-Yes." I barely made out. I started crying again. Erik gently rubbed my back. "Shh. . ." He hushed, trying to calm me. "You're safe, Clare." He whispered to me. I wept into his neck. "Phantom, I don't think I can go back home. . ." They were the very words that I dreaded to say. Admitting these words to him made my heart sink in unforgiving agony. It wasn't just admitting it to him that hurt. It was also admitting it to my heart.

"It's _impossible_ to return home." I looked up into his blue eyes. "Honestly, can you even _think_ of a possible way?" I demanded dryly in utter doubt. I was almost choking on my own sobs. Erik's eyes were commonly a lighter blue color like London Blue topaz. Although, when I gazed into Erik's eyes, I found them darker in blue. They were almost cobalt. My breath hitched in my throat when I saw how his eyes suddenly shifted into the unfamiliar cobalt color. Over his dark blue eyes was a thick layer of tears. His eyes turned red from the tears.

"No." He whispered. "I'm very sorry, Clare. I wish I could help you. It hurts me to see you in this condition." He swallowed hard. "A girl like you deserves happiness. Not sadness. You deserve to be with your family and to be surrounded by love. Not in this. . .World of solitude." He carefully worded. I tried to read his face, but his stubborn mask shield his emotions. The mask made it difficult to read him. I carefully thought over his words. I felt an emotion that I couldn't identify slowly sink into me. It made my heart grow heavy and nearly sink. It was so heavy, yet it had somehow grown empty. For a spilt moment, all of my emotions froze. It was as though I had lost everything in life, and there was nothing more to feel.

Once unfrozen, I felt the emotions grow heavier, yet emptier at the same time. I then identified what I felt. Rejection.

"Listen, I don't want to be a burden, so I'll find a new place to live, and then you won't have to worry about me, because I know that you can't keep me here forever-Plus, I'm sure you don't want to keep me around for that long-"

"No, Clare." Erik suddenly said, cutting me off. "You should now that I don't think you are a burden." His cobalt eyes grew slightly hurt. "You are welcomed to stay here with me for as long as you need to. Although, if you want, you are free to move into a new home. I could even help you find a new house to live in, if you want." He said with endearing eyes. They were so honest and caring, yet sad. I was astonished to hear those words come from him. I wasn't sure if I wanted to hug him, or cry.

This was not like Erik at all. No. Was this really the same man who threatened to kill Christine's fiancé if she didn't spend one love, one life time with Erik, instead? Was it the same man who _kidnapped_ Christine, and told her she couldn't leave? Why was Erik letting me choose? Why wasn't he deciding for me? I was then met with my answer.

Erik loved Christine. He couldn't live without her. He could barely tolerate every seeing her walk away. It was unbearable and pure torture for him. I was nothing more than a friend. It may sting for him if I felt, but it certainly wouldn't be torture. That's why I do have a choice. He could live without me. I was just a friend, who was easier to let go, and forget about.

"I-I don't know what to even do." I admitted sadly. I tried to keep my voice from cracking, though I failed towards the end of my sentence. My vision clouded with tears. I watched how everything smeared and blurred together as the tears collected in my eyes. I bit my lip, trying to keep it from trembling.

"I don't expect you to know just yet. You are allowed to stay here with me for now." He said in a soothing tone. "Stay as long as you need to." He gently stroked my auburn hair.

"Really?" I asked as I met his gaze. "Are you sure?" I watched as he nodded with very caring eyes. I saw how even from behind his ivory mask, his face grew honest and reassuring. "As long as it's not too much trouble. . ." My own words came out sounding almost like a question to my ears. "Honestly, if you don't want me here, then please, _please_ just tell me." I begged.

Erik's eyes flashed hurt. "I want you to stay here. Please don't feel like a burden. But I beg you, _please_ tell me if you wish to stay elsewhere." His eyes were pleading to hear the truth. His eyes felt like they were holding me in a safe grasp. "No, I want to stay here," I said. "But, as long as you don't ever. . .Scare me as you did earlier." I said, referring to when he practically manhandled me.

I watched as his cobalt eyes filled with tears of regret. "I won't ever treat you like that again." His voice held great pain.

"If you do, I will leave." I warned. I tried my best to make my tone stern, through my tears.

"I won't do it again. I'm so sorry, Clare." He whispered. Erik bowed his head in shame. The room grew silent then. I closed my eyes, taking in all the information.

I was trapped in an anachronism. There wasn't any possible way to return home. I would never see my family and friends ever again. I. . .I had lost all contact with them. The horrible despair in my heart was starting to become all too familiar, just over the course of just a few days. Did Erik really feel this, his whole life? How did he cope with it? It was pure torture. No wonder why he had gone insane. I thought for sure that if I felt this much longer, I too, would grow less sane.

Erik gently rubbed his thumb on my cheek. "Why are you crying, Child?" He asked softly. I felt taken aback from my own tears. I hadn't even been aware of them at first. I met his glassy cobalt eyes.

"I'm going to miss my family and friends." I admitted. I could feel his cobalt eyes staring into my tearstained green eyes. His arms suddenly wrapped around me. It was a very gentle and caring embrace. "I'm sorry, Clare." He said softly in my ear.

The way how he was comforting me, tugged a string to my heart. Part of me relished the embrace, while the other part of me desperately seek for more comfort. I didn't ever want to be torn away from him. I tenderly tightened my arms around him. I wanted to savor the sensation. A fresh wave of tears suddenly hit me. It sent me in a frantic fit of tears. I found myself weeping into his neck, all too soon. How was it that only days before this, I was laughing with my friends? Now I found myself fighting tears every other moment. How did life change dramatically? How did I wander here?

Erik was nearly rocking the both of us, as I wept. He gently stroked my hair. "Shh. . ." He hushed softly. "Everything is going to be alright. . ." He said in his velvet voice. The story always made Erik sound so awful, and hearing these words come from him, sounded so unfamiliar. It was almost foreign.

I gasped in air between my sobs. My tears were falling freely, and soaking into Erik's vest. My heart was swelled with too much despair. I felt so lost, and out of place. Frankly, it made me want to shake in fear. I wished that the pain could just leave. It was hard to tolerate. I wanted to find the old familiar connection to home. I had certainly wandered far from home. The comfort that I had felt was when I was embraced in Erik's arms. It was what kept me together. The sensation sparked a vibe in my heart that oddly made me feel like I was at home. I didn't feel alone when I was with him. I didn't feel far from home.

"You are all that I have. . ." I whispered. Erik grew silent as his body froze. After a brief hesitation, Erik tenderly tightened our embrace. He didn't utter a single word, but he carefully pulled me closer to his chest. I felt a few tears land on my head as he snuggled closer into the embrace.

. . .

**Darn, another short chapter. Argh, and so many tears! I'm happy to say that you guys can finally take a long break from reading about Clare crying. Poor Clare has gone through a lot. And may I add that Erik has a bit of OOC in this story. Oh well. . .**

**And may I also add that nothing happened between Clare and Erik at the end of this chapter! Erik was simply hugging Clare. Just clearing that up for some readers who may possibly be confused. **

**Well, I hope you guys liked this chapter! Thank you for reading! And please review! Every review makes my day.**


	10. Trouble

**Thank you all so much for all of the reviews! Each and every review means a lot to me. For those who have been reviewing, thank you so much. **

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, or its music. I only own my OC.**

**I hope you guys like this chapter! Enjoy!**

**. . .**

A cozy warmth was embraced around my body. It was so warm that I wanted to bask in its welcoming comfort for all of eternity. It was simply heavenly to feel after days of dreading about myself. I hoped that I wouldn't have to feel the bitter taste of sadness and fear anytime soon. I wanted to for once, rest and recover from the dark feelings. I knew that I would eventually feel the pain once more, but I hoped that it wouldn't return as quickly as I feared.

The warmth that I felt around my body felt familiar. Although, it felt almost foreign to feel its warmth this early in the day. Part of me questioned what the warmth truly was, but the other part of me lazily brushed it off. I was too tired to figure it out. My conscience wasn't alert enough to process it. I simply wanted nothing more than to roll over, bury my face into the pillows, and drift to sleep once more.

I shifted a little in my spot, snuggling closer to the pillows. Even through my half dead conscience, something made me realize that the red swan bed felt. . ._Different._ . .

I turned in the bed, hoping it would satisfy my slightly aching muscles. Finding no relief, I realized that something wasn't right. I swore that I felt the bed move. Not like it was rocking, but like it was breathing. I could feel my head rise and fall slowly and gently in the same order_. What's wrong with my pillow?_

My senses felt clouded with a strong scent of candle wax, and roses. Part of me questioned why the scent was suddenly overbearing. What had caused the scent to dramatically grow stronger?

_It's probably all in my head_. I thought. _You're just really tired. ._ . Anyways, why was I so surprised to smell candle wax and roses? It was Erik's lair, after all. Of course I would smell it. . .

I lazily brushed it off, not caring to figure it all out at the moment.

I then felt a deep breath gently graze the top of my head. My eyes snapped open. _No. This is definitely not familiar. _

I nearly cried out in shock when I realized I wasn't alone. The warmth that had embraced my body was Erik. I felt all the blood drain from my face. I frantically looked down at myself, and saw that I was still wearing my white nightgown. If I hadn't noticed that Erik was also still wearing his dark clothing, I thought for sure that I would've gotten a heart attack. I released a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding. _Good, nothing bad happened_. I thought, thankfully.

I recognized the long dark sleeves from Erik's shirt, lying across me. His arms were gently draped over me in a protective and caring manner. My head lied on his chest that received, and released deep breaths. The buttons from his brown vest practically dug into my back. _Geez, no wonder why my body ache's. _. .

Part of me had wanted to leap from Erik, and stumble away in utter embarrassment. Although, the other part of me secretly relished the sensation of having him so close. I felt my cheeks flush. A dreamy smile spread across my face. _So this is what it feels like to fall asleep in someone's arms_. . . I thought. I had always heard people talk and swoon over it. This is what they were talking about. It was nice.

Every once in a while I felt Erik shift a little in his spot as he dreamt. It was actually _cute_. As he shifted, his arms gently tightened around me. It made my heart want to leap, and butterflies danced in my stomach. I was squealing on the inside like a fan-girl.

I wanted to snuggle closer to him, but I feared that I would wake him. My body remained tense. I felt that even if my muscles relaxed, it would stir him awake. If I were to relax in his arms, I wanted to make sure he was well asleep.

I hesitantly craned my head back to sneak a glance at him. I found my neck stiff and a little sore, but it didn't hold me back. I found that his eyes were peacefully closed. His white mask was still stubbornly sticking to his face. _How could he sleep with that?_ I hoped that he didn't always sleep with his mask on. It would be utterly sad if he did. I knew that his heart was scarred, but surely not scarred enough to even make him sleep with his mask on. _What_ had the world done to him?

Despite the mask on his face, he actually looked very peaceful in his sleep. His weary eyes were closed, and hid his brilliant blue eyes. He looked as though he was closing his eyes in deep thought. His mask, making it a little difficult to read him, made his expression deceiving. Erik was merely sleeping, not thinking. Although at first, I had thought otherwise.

When I was convinced that he was asleep, I loosened my tense muscles and began to relax in his arms. I snuggled into his chest. The warmth radiating from Erik wrapped around the air in silence. As I snuggled closer to him, I felt him gently adjust his arms in response. After I settled down, I felt him rewrap his arms around me. He gently pulled me closer to his chest. I knew that his conscience wasn't awake, and he wasn't fully aware of what he was holding in his arms. If anything, I imagined that he probably thought that he was merely holding a _pillow_, not me.

Either way, I was utterly happy. And that was something I thought I wouldn't say anytime soon. I was not going to let the moment fly right out the window. I was going to savor the sensation.

I took nice deep breaths, inhaling his scent. His candle wax and rose scent felt like it was a warm blanket that gently wrapped around me. I closed my eyes, and slowly began to drift.

. . .

I felt utterly cold. The candle wax and rose scent no longer clouded over me. Instead of feeling blissfully happy, I felt so alone. Opening my eyes, I found myself completely alone. Erik no longer caressed me. Instead it was merely the red swan bed that caressed me. I felt a stab of sadness. I felt the ecstatic deflate in my heart. A disappointed sigh left my lips.

Rolling over, I heard, and felt something crinkle from under my body. Glancing down, I found a letter tucked from under me. Picking it up, I found it was a hand written letter from Erik. I carefully straightened out the creases I created in it.

_Clare,_

_Under certain circumstances, I had to leave for a short period of time, to take care of an issue. Forgive me for the sudden disappearance. I promise to be back shortly._

_Your dearest friend,_

_-O.G._

I re-read the letter several times. _An issue?_ I thought. _What, like trying to collect your 20,000 france?_

And. . .How long would a 'short period of time' be? Also, he could've been nice enough to say, _make yourself at home. _But, he probably didn't say that because in reality, he's thinking:

_Oh, and please don't snoop through my stuff._ I shook my obnoxious thoughts away as I glanced at his signature. _Your dearest friend._ I felt like I had been stabbed when I read the _friend_ part. _Friend_. That's all I'll ever be. _Clare, he love's Christine, and you know that!_ I thought to myself. It felt like torture, but I knew it was something I had to accept. _Well, at least he said, 'Your dearest friend'. At least he didn't just sign it with O.G, or anything sarcastic. You're a friend in his eyes, and that's something to be proud of._

I skimmed through the letter again. What could the circumstance be? I gently sat the letter down as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I crept out from the room and gazed around the main room, finding it empty. What could I do while he was gone? I walked towards the organ. Perhaps I could try and play it? I'm sure he wouldn't mind. I didn't see any harm in it. It's not like I was going to throw it in the lake, or spill ink on the keys. I smirked at my stupid imagination. I could just about imagine Erik's fuming form if I told him that his organ was in the lake. Just the thought made me giggle.

I approached the large pipe organ. I assumed it was old, but it seemed very well kept and cared for. Around the organ were many candles. I also found several roses lying on the organ along with a mess of papers. The candles and roses caught my attention for a brief moment. It was no wonder of why Erik smelled like candles and roses. After all, this was where Erik spent his time. At the organ. I could almost see it in the organ. The key's weren't one hundred percent white, which told me that it had been played for many, _many_ years.

I gently pressed one of the key's making a low note escape from it. I felt a smirk tug at my lips. I used all my fingers, and pressed as many keys as I could all at once. Many low notes rang through the lair, making a very creepy and eerie tone. The sound of it reminded me of the old dramatic horror movies. I felt a little giddy after playing the random key's from the organ. After several minutes of my attempt of playing the organ, I grew bored since I didn't actually know how to play it. Erik was amazing at playing it-he made it sound so magical and beautiful, that I could easily sit with him or hours, to hear him play. I, on the other hand, only made it sound eerie.

I stood up from the bench, already bored. The papers that were scattered along the organ suddenly caught my eye. I didn't touch the papers but I glanced at them for a brief second. I easily recognized all of them-they were the opera's that Erik wrote. All the songs were there. Well, all except Don Juan. _Hmm, I guess he hasn't written it yet_. . . I thought. I moved away from the organ, and wandered through the room.

Erik had many interesting accessories in his home. It seemed like many of the things he had, where made from him. Furniture to paintings. His house was magnificent, and I could've easily spent all day just admiring his home.

I then came across the model of the theatre. The stage was set up to look like II Muto. The thought popped back into my mind. _What did Erik have to take care of? _I tried my best to collect all of the information that I knew of.

Erik said that I arrived the same day that Christine had removed his mask. . .So, he had returned her above ground, and later that day I arrived. So, rarely did Erik ever leave his lair. . . What were his reasons this time? He never explained his reasons. . .Was he trying to hide something from me? What could it be?

I racked my brain, trying to find answers. I thought back to the events from the movies and plays. It then hit me.

Didn't he go to II Muto shortly after he brought Christine back? I felt the blood drain from my face. _Oh no. _

My head whirled around to look at the miniature stage that Erik had made. I saw he small figures set up on the stage. I then realized that the heads were swapped so that Christine was the countess, and Carlotta was the pageboy. The events from the story flooded into my mind.

Erik would become extremely mad upon seeing Carlotta as the lead when he strictly said that Christine would. Where these the reasons why he had an issue to take care of? So that he could humiliate Carlotta? Swapping her throat spray was one thing, but it certainly wasn't the reason why I was utterly horrified. I knew that Joseph Buquet would be stupid enough to follow Erik. Certainly, Erik wouldn't risk his chances of being discovered by him. I knew that by the end of that night, Joseph Buquet would be dead, and the rumors of it being caused by Erik would spread like wildfire.

_Oh no._ I thought horrified. _No. Is this really happening?_ My heart thumped in my chest. I paced in front of the miniature stage, beginning to feel utterly panicked. I ran my hands through my hair, trying my best to calm down. How many days had it been since Erik found me? It felt like all the days had blended together into one long day. Erik and I had easily spent the days getting to know each other. We would spend hours, just sorting out problems. Over a short period of time, I found myself knowing more about him than anyone else. I even found myself beginning to develop strong feelings for him. All over the course of what, _almost_ three days? It certainly wasn't long at all. . .

He found me the same day he sent Christine home. . .Three days ago. How many days were there between that and the II Muto event, in the storyline? I felt the blood drain from my face once more when I realized that it was about several days. My dreadful fear, scarily matched up with the main Phantom of the Opera storyline.

_Oh gosh. . .__**No**__._

Erik _must_ had left to go to II Muto. I knew that a death would occur. . .Unless I arrived there in time. Maybe I could stop him. I couldn't stand by and let Erik kill him. Part of me felt heartbroken. I thought I had helped Erik aid his heart.

_You honestly think he would be better after just three days? You fool. For all you know, it may take years._ I pointed out to myself. _Although, you have definitely helped him by quite a hit so far._

I felt so stupid for not realizing that he was going to II Muto sooner. Yet, it was so obvious-it was practically staring at me in the face. _How could Erik do this?_ I thought that by now he would have a little bit of a change in heart. At least a little bit.

_Calm down, Clare._ I told myself. _I shouldn't be jumping to conclusions_. After all, I wasn't Erik. All I knew was that he was going so he could get revenge on Carlotta. I didn't think that he went there to actually kill someone. I didn't think it was his main goal. Maybe Erik would simply leave once Joseph Buquet began to follow him. I hoped so. Erik was better than this. I knew that he contained good in his heart. He just had to shove away the darker feelings. I desperately hoped that my kind words had made the good in his heart swell. Since I wasn't Erik, I had no idea if he would leave Joseph be, or if he would murder him to keep himself from being discovered.

I could hardly fathom it. But I knew that I couldn't stand by, and hope for the best. I had to stop him. I had to at least _try_. I wasn't going to let a monster unfold.

. . .

**That's the end of this chapter! Oooh, a little bit of a cliff hanger-so is Clare gonna be able to stop Erik? Does Erik really have a change of heart?**

**Awww, I had some fluff in the beginning of this chapter. I had fun writing it. :D**

**And I dunno if II Muto really was a few days after the whole event of Stranger Than You Dreamt It. I wanna say that it was the very same day, but in this case, I'm just saying that it's been about three days. Hmm. . .**

**Well, it looks like Clare is finally starting to get more involved in the main storyline. I hope you guys like where it's going! **

**Thank you so much for reading! Please review, guys! Every single review makes me happy.**


	11. Determind

**Oh my goodness! I didn't think that I would get so many reviews! Thank you all so, so much!**

**I wanted to say a special thanks to ****Painless Anguish**** for their review. Also, just a shout out, I wanted to say check out Painless Anguish's awesome fanfictions!**

**Also, I wanted to say a special thanks to ****TheKaylester**** for their awesome reviews! **

**Thank you so much guys! I love each and every review!**

**I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, or its music. I only own my OC.**

**Enjoy!**

**. . .**

I hastily walked through the path. My legs burned from the nonstop march. I had been walking for a good ten minutes, without stopping for even a moment. Nothing would stop me. Nothing would get in my way. I was very well determined that I would stop Erik.

_My sides were aching, and begged me to stop, but my legs kept moving step after step. They urged me_ to follow the never ending path. I found myself going through the all too familiar path, sooner than I had expected. The stone stair's curled up towards my above ground destination. I stayed close to the side of the path, avoiding the obvious-to-me traps that Erik had set up. I wasn't going to fall into the same traps that Raoul had.

My mind was set on Erik and the main storyline the whole time. I stayed focus on the events I recalled from the story. Had Erik met Raoul by now?_ Well, not in person, but he knows who he is, whether he likes it or not._ I practically answered myself, as I recalled Erik's words from the mirror scene.

_Insolent boy, this slave of fashion, basking in your glory. . . Ignorant fool! This brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph!_

Yep, Erik knew him. And I was sure that he was aware that Raoul meant a lot to Christine, right? _Why does Erik even like Christine?_ I found myself asking, bluntly.

Christine didn't have much of a personality. She was simply always scared. She never really had a choice in things-well, she never spoke up and put her foot down. It was rather irritating in my opinion. I inwardly sighed in defeat as a new thought hit me.

Well, in the storyline, she was about my age. She was young, and easily fascinated by her Angel of Music. She was just like any other girl-Dreaming of love and every dream that we all grasped in our minds. I actually couldn't blame her for being frightened when she found that even her Angel had been lying to her throughout her whole life. She had a rude awakening to who he was. The Phantom of the Opera.

Although, I sometimes wondered if she dug deep enough to learn who he really was. He was Erik Destler. He dreamed of things that always seemed too far from his grasp. Every time he reached for it, it grew further away. And it was the simplest thing. Love. Simple, yet powerful. It was something simple that never introduced itself to him. Many others had been blessed with the heartwarming emotion. It was something that Erik had felt in his heart, yet he desperately yearned to feel it from another, for him. But his dream had never been fulfilled. That alone made him suffer in the silence, where his plead wouldn't be heard.

Part of me wanted to accuse it being Erik's fault. He should've gone out in the world, and found love. It wasn't like it would come to him out of nowhere.

_Oh, you mean like how you did?_

The very thought nearly made my inner arguing grow completely silent. After a moment, I shook it off._ This isn't about you._ I told myself. Besides, the thought was too hard to answer-since I wasn't one hundred percent sure how this was all working.

Anyways, the other part of me couldn't blame Erik. He was too afraid to go far from his home. No one ever accepted him. Because of that, he refused to escape from his comfort zone. Another thing I was concerned about was Erik's heart.

I knew he still loved Christine. I was still pretty sure that she was interested in Raoul. Part of me wanted her to fall for Erik so that he could finally get his happy ending. But at the same time, I felt a stab of jealousy in my heart when I thought of them together. _Don't be so selfish, Clare._ I mentally scolded myself. My stupid feelings in this love triangle didn't matter. I needed to help Erik get closer to Christine.

But what had I done to help? I hadn't given much advice to him. I had only told hi kind words, and comforted him. I was only going to give Erik mixed signals. _I'm only trying to help heal his heart._ I thought. I didn't feel anything wrong with that, except it felt almost. . .Romantic. I needed to kick it down several notches. I had to remember that he loved Christine. Not me.

Although, if Christine didn't start to have new feeling for Erik, then she would only reopen the wounds in his heart. All the progress I had done. . .It would be gone. _Unless_, Erik's heart had grown stronger. But, what would happen if he got left behind in a lonely agony? What would I do? Go to him with open arms?

_Yes._

It didn't have to be in a romantic way. I just wanted to make sure that he wasn't alone. I would continue to help him. Every time he would fall, I would help him up. I would do everything I could to help him. I just hoped that now that I was there, things would work out for the best. I hoped there would be no more deaths. I hoped that Christine could do much less damage to Erik's heart. I also hoped that Erik didn't do anything stupid.

I eventually reached the top of the staircase. I couldn't believe that I managed to reach the top without falling for any of the traps. _I deserve a gold star for that._ I thought sarcastically.

By the time I walked through a small tunnel that left the main room, my legs felt so weak._ Keep going._ I told myself. I somehow managed to keep my legs moving. Step after step. It seemed like a simple thing to cooperate. But the route that brought me there had to at least be a mile. It didn't sound very long, but it definitely felt like it after I came there without stopping once. My sides felt like they were protesting me from continuing. They begged for me to stop and rest. I couldn't stop just yet-I had to continue.

I looked around the dark tunnel that I had entered. It was dark and eerily quiet. My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. I began to make out a long hallway ahead of me. There was something lined along the walls. Looking closer, a clearer image formed. I realized that it was unlit torches. There were so many lined along the walls, that it seemed impossible to count.

Years of collected dust covered the unlit torches. The air was thick with the scent of dust. The ceilings of the corridors were infested with webs. It looked untouched, but the familiar site before me, made me think otherwise. The creepy corridors screamed _The Phantom of the Opera_.

I could hear tats squeaking, and I could faintly hear their little claws scratching the ground as they scampered away from me. Next thing I knew was that I had stopped in my tracks.

_Why aren't the torches lit?_ I pondered. Not only that, but weren't the torches supposed to be gold candle holder that were shaped like human hands? _And_ moving? I searched through my brain for answers as the dripping water quietly echoed through the tunnel. I knew this was the same corridor that Meg had gone through as well as Christine and Erik had. Why did it look different though? When Erik brought Christine here, it looked so magical. But when Meg came here. . . Well, she was met with the same image that I was facing.

It then hit me. In the novels, Erik could perform some type of magic. He said that he could create images for others to see. He could add or change things-Everything but his face. . . Certainly, Erik preformed magic when he brought Christine through these corridors.

Did that also mean that he made the Christine wax figure look realistic? After all, it didn't look real later on in the story. Had Erik used magic there as well? Even when I was there? Why? Why would it matter if I was there? Maybe he did that for himself. . .

I slowly made my way through the dark tunnel. I knew I was very close to Christine's dressing room. I almost felt like dropping to the ground in exhaustion, and cry out in relief when I finally approached the mirror. I wearily looked through the one-way mirror. It felt so odd to gaze through like that. Only a mirror hid me, and I was completely oblivious to everyone else.

I silently monitored the room. I couldn't take chances of walking through, and being discovered. The dressing room was still and completely silent. When I was convinced no one was there, I carefully tugged the mirror open. The mirror was heavy, and the frame felt cold against my fingers, almost making me think that it had been untouched. I could feel a thick layer of dust and webs under my fingers, where the frame hadn't been touched.

I pulled it open until there was just enough space to squeeze through. I quickly slipped through, finding the air a little cooler in the dressing room than it was in Erik's lair. I was dumbstruck to find that Erik's lair was actually warmer. It then made me remember that in the storyline, it was described that Erik's lair was warm during winter, and cool during summer. It was described that it was great at maintaining comfortable temperatures.

I nearly shivered when I entered the dressing room. As soon as I slipped from the mirror, I was hit with a strong scent of roses. It was so strong that it nearly made me gag. My eyes scan the room, finding it covered with vases of roses. All the vanities were loaded with all kinds of roses. Every kind of rose and every color were there. The scent was so sweet, yet so powerful. It almost made me lightheaded. I quickly crept towards the first exit I could find. Inching closer to the door, my hand stretched out towards the graceful doorknob, anxious to escape the powerful scent that had clouded over me.

When my fingers were only a moment away from brushing the doorknob, I stopped in my tracks._ I can't go out in public looking like this._ I thought as I looked down at the white nightgown that was on me. But then again, it was like I was going to sit down, and watch the performance like everyone else. I was going up to the rafters._ Well, at least wear something else, just in case you really do run into somebody._ I thought. Deciding it was a good idea, I looked around the dressing room. It took me a while to find a dress that actually looked like it was going to some-what fit on my petite body.

I went behind the folding screen, and striped off the white nightgown, and hung it over the folding screen. I hastily slipped on the dress. I thought the dress was pretty. It had different shades of purple and white lace lined the sleeves. It reminded me of Christine's dress in _Point of No Return_, except this dress was purple instead of brown. It was hard to get on, but after a god ten minutes, I eventually managed to get it on. There was one problem though.

The torso area of the dress was quite baggy. It didn't fit right, and I knew it was because I wasn't wearing a corset. I looked in the mirror, and quietly cursed under my breath when I saw how it practically hung on me.

I didn't have many choices. My bra was back at the lair, sitting in a pile of damp clothes. I didn't plan on wasting half an hour just to get a bra. I _would_ put on a corset, but I didn't have a clue of how to put it on. And I certainly didn't plan to go and ask a lady to help me put it on. It would be too embarrassing _and_ she would probably wonder why I had never used one before. It was too much trouble.

How the hell was I going to adjust to this time period? It was so confusing. It made me want to cry in frustration, when I looked at how ridiculous I looked in the dress. The dress still cover me up, but just barely. It was so incredibly baggy, that I feared that it could easily expose me. I sighed in defeat, and went back behind the folding screen, and changed back into my nightgown.

By the time I came out, I felt so upset, realizing that I had wasted half an hour just trying to make myself look presentable. _Fool_. I spat to myself. _You just wasted so much time._ I began to feel lightheaded, and I started to wonder if it was because I was frustrated, or the roses were beginning to overpower my senses. I decided it was the roses, as my stomach churned. I hastily opened the door, and left the room.

At first, the halls were quiet. But once I turned a corner, I found it congested with many people that I assumed worked here. I felt my feet stop, utterly scared to go near the people. I was a new face, and one that was running around in a nightgown like a freak. I knew that I would get many odd glances, and hear negative murmurs from all around me. I nearly went back from where I came, feeling too scared to walk through the crowd.

_No Clare. _I told myself._ Don't you dare back out just because of some stupid looks and whispers. Do this because you must keep a murder from occurring tonight._

Next thing I knew, I was hastily slipping past everyone. I kept my head down, trying to avoid any eye contact. I made my way through the crowd, refusing to listen to whatever they were saying. I didn't care what it was about. I just blocked out their voices the best I could. I could feel their stares. It made me feel so uneasy, and I felt my face burn in embarrassment. I felt so self-conscience.

I tried to take quieter passageways where I could avoid people. Through nearly all passageways had someone there, and I could feel them all staring at me. I kept my head down, with my wavy auburn hair hanging over my face. Every time I made eye contact with someone, I instantly averted my eyes. I kept my eyes on the ground nearly the whole time.

I had never felt so awkward before in my entire life. Sure, school usually made me feel self-conscience. High school seemed a lot better than middle school, for it seemed that everyone was more mature and not obnoxious. But walking through this opera house, I realized that my presence here made my wretched middle school years look like a walk in the park.

I bumped into a few people a couple of times. I always muttered a sorry before I could hear them grumble and scoff angrily at me. The same pattern repeated over and over as I took random passageways, hoping to wander closer to the rafters.

I lost count of how many times I crossed a path that looked all too familiar. I took every spiral stairs I could find, praying that it would guide me to my destination. I slowly grew further and further away from everyone, as I began to climb stair more frequently. Eventually, I reached a higher level, and I could hear very familiar voices singing. I instantly recognized the song. I wasn't sure if I was relieved to know that I had reached my destination, or upset to know that I would hear Carlotta sing within only a matter of seconds. The opera sounded so jolly and I could hear the audience laughing along when a joke was told. The other opera singer's voices rang throughout the whole room, convincing me that I had indeed arrived in the right place, on time.

. . .

**That's the end of this chapter! It looks like Clare finally reached the rafters! So, what's gonna happen in the next chapter? Is Clare gonna be able to stop Erik from killing Joseph Buquet? You'll find out in the next chapter.**

**I'll try to update on time, next week, but I can't promise anything. I'm still currently writing this part. The chapter might possibly be cut into two chapters, but we'll just have to wait and see. **

**Well, thank you for reading, guys! Please review! Each and every review makes my day. :D**


	12. Who Hides in the Corridors

**My goodness, I'm so sorry guys! I know, this is a week late. I'm really sorry, but keep in mind that I have a life, and I had some writers block as well. I can't always promise that I'll update every single week, but I'll try. I'm pretty sure that you guys don't have to worry about me running a month late, though. No one likes to be stuck on a cliffhanger for a month straight, so I'll be nice to you guys, and make sure that doesn't happen with my updates. **

**Anyways, thank you so much for all the reviews! I've finally received an extra reviewer for my last chapter! Now my last chapter has the most reviews-ten reviews! Thank you so much guys! I love you all for sharing your thoughts on my updates! I appreciate all of them! I'm always grinning ear-to-ear when I'm reading them. :D**

**I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, or its music.**

**Well, any-who, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!**

**. . .**

I walked to the railings and glanced over the edge. I wasn't very high up from the stage, but the distance didn't cease from making my stomach churn in response. I took a deep breath and tried to calm my stomach. I knew I had to get over it, since I would be around here for a while. The play had literally just started, and after only a matter of seconds, a familiar pair of black gloves caught my attention.

Right below me, I saw Erik's black leather gloves reaching out for Carlotta's throat spray, from the shadows. He gracefully picked up the clear bottle, careful not to make the slightest sound. If I hadn't looked down, I easily would've missed it. Everyone around remained oblivious to Erik, as the bottle quickly disappeared in the shadows, only to be replaced to an exact copy of the bottle. I couldn't see the slightest difference in the two bottles. The same red colored liquid swished gently inside the crystal bottle as Erik carefully sat it down without the slightest sound. His black leather gloved hands disappeared in the shadows, not leaving any evidenced of his presence.

A nearby creak sound snapped my attention away from Erik. My head whipped around as I looked in every direction. My eyes frantically scan the grounds around me, searching for any obvious signs of someone's presence. My eyes then fell upon Joseph Buquet, who was lingering merely twenty yards from me. He too, had taken notice to the black gloves swapping Carlotta's throat spray, from below us. His wary eyes carefully studied the mischief with suspicion. Even though he had grown aware of the Phantom's tricks, Joseph Buquet was completely oblivious to _my_ presence.

I wanted to quickly sneak into the shadows before he would find me as well. As much as my legs wanted to run from there, they grew heavy like lead. My legs remained still, knowing that if I moved, Joseph Buquet would notice me there. I tensed up, as I silently stood there, praying that he wouldn't discover me as well. I held my breath. Carlotta's voice echoed through the room, and rang in my ears as I waited. Gosh, she really did sound awful. Well, over all, the performance it's self, wasn't my cup of tea.

I breathed out a quiet sigh of relief as Joseph Buquet eventually turned the other direction, and walked further along the rafters. I silently debated whether or not to follow him, and make sure that Erik wouldn't pop out, and try to kill him. I wanted to make sure that nothing bad would happen. I didn't want to be discovered by Erik nor Joseph. _Although, maybe I should approach Joseph, and tell him to get out of there._ I thought. _No_. Part of me argued._ It's dangerous to be around him._

Before anything else could cross my mind, a hand suddenly clamped around my mouth. Fear leaped into my heart. A panicked cry tried to escape from my throat, but the hand muffled my cry. An arm snaked around my waist, and pulled me into the shadows. I saw Joseph turn around upon hearing my muffled scream. Once he turned to face our direction, I had already been pulled into the shadows.

"Shh. . ." The voice hissed in my ear once I was out of Joseph's sight. "It's just me, Clare." The velvet voice whispered in my ear. The hand gently touched my shoulders, as they faced me to look at them. Despite the darkness, I instantly recognized the white mask that stuck to a very familiar face.

"Phantom?" I asked quietly. Erik didn't bother nodding since he was clearly too busy scolding me. His topaz blue eyes pierced into my green eyes. Using one of his gloved hands, he brought a finger to his lips, motioning me to remain quiet. Besides the little concern that lingered in his eyes, he was over all agitated. "What are you doing here?" He hissed quietly.

My mouth grew dry once hearing his question. I mentally face palmed, realizing that I had never thought of a good excuse. I racked my mind, searching for a good answer. "I-I felt like something bad was going to happen." I sputtered nervously. Erik looked at me baffled. "Worried about what? And, how did you manage to get here?" The questions pressed hard on me, and made the air grow hot, as I nervously thought of something to say.

"It wasn't easy to get here, but I found my way around. And like I said, I-I j-just felt like something awful was going t-to happen." I found myself failing miserably at keeping myself sounding calm. I kept stuttering my words. It was an old nervous habit.

Erik narrowed his eyes at mine, as he studied me for a moment. "Are you, _lying_, Clare?" He asked in disbelief. I felt my thoughts screech to a halt. Erik must had seen right through me. I wanted to deny it, but I knew that I wasn't being one hundred percent honest. I tried to rack my brain for something else to say, but nothing came up. All of my attempts came back empty. Before Erik could press anymore questions on me, a shrill voice that belonged to Carlotta interrupted us. "Dammit." Erik swore under his breath. I looked at his clearly irritated blue eyes. "What's wrong?" I asked when I saw how the muscles in his jaw work in and out.

Erik ignored my question as he began walking along the rafters, in a direction I wasn't familiar with. I silently followed him, unsure what to do. Fear crept into my heart as we stepped into darker shadows. My eyes scan the area around me, hoping to find a source of light. Anything. Even if it merely came from cracks and crevices. Every once in a while, a beam of light shined on my skin from the small spaces from in between the plywood. We came across the beams of light rarely, making us adventure through the shadows most of the time.

I hastily stumbled towards Erik, and gently gripped onto his cloak. Erik turned to glance at me upon feeling my scared gesture. Erik continued along the path, dismissing my need of holding onto him for support. I stayed close by him, afraid of being left in the shadows. Erik glanced back at me. Through his mask, I saw that his face had softened when he detected my fear. "Don't be alarmed, Child." He said quietly. Beams of light hit both of our faces from the rafters. I snuck a glance down at my feet, finding that the light escaped from the spaces between the platforms.

Erik's pace began to slow down. "I am merely upset because of. . ." Erik stopped and slowly looked down at the stage. "_Her_." He said in a harsher tone. I watched as his eyes grew utterly furious as they locked on Carlotta. He stared her down like he was a cat monitoring a mouse. I could see the hatred in his eyes. If looks could kill, Carlotta would've been dead by then. Erik looked like he wanted to strangle Carlotta right then and there. He glared at her as though he was waiting for her to burst into flames. His face was straight, and his burning blue eyes were refusing to flinch away from Carlotta. Erik looked determined that she would pay. Some people say that hate is a strong word. But looking into Erik's eyes, I didn't doubt that utter hatred filled them. What I saw in his eyes, was certainly hatred.

From under us, Carlotta and Pangy sang, rather irritating notes, walking in a small circle. Carlotta looked ridiculous in her huge bubble gum pink dress, as Pangy did with his lime green outfit. The two made quiet an odd couple, indeed.

I snuck another uneasy glace at Erik. He was oblivious to my nervous glance, as he glared at Carlotta. I knew that his mind was currently set on nothing else but of how angry he was for Carlotta stealing Christine's role. His glare made me grow extremely anxious to get him to leave the place. I gently grabbed his inner elbow, and began to pull him away from the railing hesitantly, worried that I would make him snap. When he neglected my silent plead, I decided to call him by his name.

"Phantom." I said softly. Hearing his nickname, Erik eventually pulled away, and met my gaze with slightly calmer eyes. Without giving me any further chance to speak, Erik continued walking through the rafters, taking the lead. I watched how his cloak swished as he turned, and how it swayed gracefully behind him as he walked. Beams of light hit our bodies, and casted shadows along the walls, before we entered a small room.

I recognized the small room as being the same one where Erik changed the gears to the chandelier on the night of Don Juan. It looked the same-with the gears and controls. Plus the small window that looked onto the stage. I knew that there were many crawl spaces, and very tight areas to squeezed through that led to many passageways all throughout the Opera House. I spotted a few hidden passageways that were very tight, and just barely big enough to squeeze myself through. Just being in that very room made me claustrophobic.

Erik quietly made his way to the window. He looked through to observe the stage. The light shone from the window, and hit his face as he studied the stage. I watched how his eyes flickered back and forth between Carlotta and Christine. I could see exactly what was running through his mind, and the thoughts made anger flash in his eyes.

After he got a good enough look, he turned, and climbed a few wooden steps, and slipped through a small space. I went to follow after him, but stopped when I noticed how small and cramped the space was. I felt beads of sweat collect on my forehead when I realized that I had to squeeze through it. The air suddenly became hard to breath, as I debated whether it was a good idea to even dare to crawl through it. When I didn't follow, Erik hesitated before turning to glance at me. "Are you coming, Child?" He asked bluntly. I could see in his blue topaz eyes that he was still aggravated. I could also hear how aggravated he was through his voice. Even his slightly harsher tone made me jump.

"Y-Yes." I stuttered nervously before I forced my stubborn legs to move forward. I shoved away my stupid paranoid fears, and I hastily slipped through the tight spaces. I was so anxious to get out of the cramped room that I nearly tripped over my own feet. I then stumbled before I could even reach the door. Erik's gloved hand quickly grabbed a hold of my shoulder before I could fall. Allowing me to stand up normally, he gently loosened his grip, and removed his hand.

I glanced at him, finding his eyes had grown slightly softer, and concern lingered in them. His topaz blue eyes asked me f I was okay, yet he managed to say:

"Silly Child."

I blushed in embarrassment, and adverted my eyes. Though I turned away, I could feel his eyes staring after mine. His gaze was _powerful_. His eyes made me feel like the whole world was staring at me. Taking me by surprise, Erik gently touched my chin. Oddly, his leather gloved hands felt slightly cooler under my skin. He carefully turned my face until my eyes were guided into his. His blue topaz eyes studied my face, making me flush even more. My breaths nearly screeched to a halt when I realized how close his face was. I could see all of the details of his face, and I fought every urge to throw my arms around his neck, and to kiss him. I only managed to breathe in short breaths. I breathed them in silently, not daring to let him hear.

"Don't be so embarrassed, Child." He said snapping me away from my thoughts. I realized that he was referring to when he called me by _Silly Child._ Erik must had seen my flushed face. I blushed fiercely when I realized that. Erik hand grazed my cheek before pulling his hand away. He then held open the door, and kindly let me go first like a gentleman. I smiled kindly at him, and pretended to curtsy. "Why, thank you sir." I teased. Erik grew amused with my playful manner. I walked through the door, but not before seeing his lips tug up into a small smile. Even though it was small, I felt my heart soar. He was so. . ._beautiful_ when he smiled. It was heartwarming.

"You're quite welcome, mademoiselle." He teased back. I felt my own smile grow when I saw the playful smirk on his face. Erik gently closed the door from behind us as we entered a new room.

Looking around, I recognized it from the movie. There were two other doors. One led out to the theater, were it over looked the chandelier. The other door, led further up the rafters. The room smelled like dust, and I tried to hold back a sneeze. I could faintly hear Carlotta's voice from the theater. I cringed a little. _Oh, how awful she sounded_. I looked up at Erik, and I instantly felt my lips droop into a frown. I was immediately over come with concern when I saw the look on his face.

I watched as his smile slowly disappeared from his face as Carlotta's voice emitted into his ears. The small amount of happiness that had shown in his eyes instantly vanished, and turned hard. His face became straight, and serious. Anger slowly began to appear, and linger in his eyes.

"Phantom?" I whispered. I knew that he heard me, but he chose to neglect me. Though he was clearly agitated, he still managed to gracefully walk towards the door that led to the theater. He opened the door in one fluid movement, without making the door creak in process. Before I knew it, he disappeared into the theater, with his dark cape swishing behind his form.

The wooden door began to swing back to close, but I hastily stopped it, and slipped through the door. I entered the theater, finding myself very close the roof. Though looking straight ahead, I saw the massive glass chandelier right in front of us. It was beautiful as every glass piece sparkled in the light. It was so elegant. Around us, the walls and ceiling was painted sky blue, with angels. I glanced back at the door we had exited from. It matched the paintings on the walls and ceilings. The door blended right in with the wall, that even I could've easily over looked it.

Carlotta's voice rang loudly, making my ears ring. I winced when she hit a high note. _Argh! My ears are bleeding! This girl should __**not **__be singing!_ It felt like the whole theater shook when her voice rang out. Her voice bounced off the walls and ceiling, before the notes crashed down on me, filling my ears with her dreadful voice. It nearly made my head pound.

_Geez, Erik outta teach Carlotta how to sing!_ I thought sarcastically. His voice lessons would beat her left and right, and spit her right out. She wouldn't last very long until Erik would send her away, refusing to work with her voice.

I glanced at the dark form that stood over the edge, and looked at the people on the stage. He stood in front of the chandelier. I quietly walked towards Erik, trying to mirror his silent and graceful movements. I walked lightly and deftly until I reached his form that hid under his dark clothing. I followed his gaze that led to Carlotta and Christine on the stage. His head slightly turned to the right, as he glanced at Raoul. Raoul sat in box five, simply enjoying the opera. He was utterly oblivious to Erik's burning gaze.

"It's that. . ._Boy_." Erik growled. My attention snapped to Erik, dumbstruck that he sensed my presence. I think Erik noticed my astonishment, because he then added in:

"I heard you come." Without turning to look at me. _Curse his incredible hearing._ Erik's eyes flickered between Raoul and Carlotta. They were the reasons of why Erik wasn't have a very _pleasant_ night. And if we didn't leave soon, Joseph Buquet would also be another reason, of why Erik's night wasn't going according to plan. Before I could say anything, Erik's voice boomed throughout the theater, causing everyone on stage to stop singing and performing.

"_Did I not instruct, that box five was to be kept empty?"_ Erik bellowed. His voice bounced off the walls, and many gasp's were emitted in the air, from all around. I gently gripped the gold railing before I hesitantly gazed over the edge. Below us, the audience looked in all directions, wondering where the voice came from. Some looked panicked or concerned, while others were looking uneasy and fearful. In between the gasp's and whispers, I heard the words, _Phantom,_ or _Opera Ghost_ muttered.

I saw how Raoul glanced around, from box five. He didn't look scared or worried at all, but merely curious. On the staged, I read Meg's lips. She said, "He's here. The Phantom of the Opera." She looked very concerned, and even a little scared. I saw how Christine quietly said, "It's him." Christine blindly stared towards our direction, in concern. Though everyone looked all around, neither of them actually spotted Erik and I.

"Your part is silent, little toad!" Carlotta snapped at Christine. Once Carlotta looked back at the audience, she managed to plaster a grin onto her face, before she made her way back stage to get her throat spray. _Gosh, she looked like an idiot_. I was surprised that she didn't topple over on her way there, with that dreadful wig.

"A toad, madam?" Erik asked in disbelief. "Perhaps it is _you_, who are the toad." He said in his velvet voice, as his eyes hardened on Carlotta.

I felt the blood drain from my face as I looked straight down at the ground. I turned my face away from the ground, unable to bear it for much longer, as I felt my stomach churn tightly. Realizing how high we really were, made me stumble away from the railing. I stepped further away from the railing, trying to forget ever seeing how high up I was.

Erik turned to face me, with confusion. His confusion disappeared, and turned worried when he looked at me. "Clare?" He asked softly.

"I-I'm fine." I stuttered out. Erik's blue topaz eyes studied me carefully. "Are you sure?" He asked as he stepped a little closer. His movements showed that he was deciding whether or not to go to me, and take me into his arms, in fear of something bad happening to me. He opened his arms, practically offering to help me. It almost seemed like he was preparing to see me faint. _Do I really look faint?_

"Yes-I'm fine." I tried to reassure. I must had not been very convincing, because Erik ceased to look at me with concerned eyes. To lighten his concerns, I walked towards him, and forced myself to look calm. My stomach turned a bit, and I kept reminding myself to breath, and get my mind off of my upset stomach. "I'm alright." I said, trying to sound positive. Not only was I trying to convince him that I was fine, but I was also trying to tell myself the very same thing.

Erik studied me carefully with wary eyes, before dismissing it. "If you say so. . ." He muttered. I forced myself to go back to the railings. My stomach continued to turn in response. I wanted nothing more than to be asleep, warm and cozy in the swan bed. But to my dismay, it was too far away. I felt like I could easily sleep away the discomfort in my stomach. I at _least_ wanted to lean against Erik, right then and there. For all I knew, I could've fallen asleep standing up.

Instead, I stood close to Erik. The knots in my stomach slowly began to loosen when Erik's scent gently clouded over me. Just the scent radiating from him, managed to sooth me. I tried not to look at the stage. So, instead, I focused on the chandelier in front of me. I found myself trying very hard to put all my attention on it, and not on the stage below us.

_Don't you dare think about how high up you are! Just. . . Admire the chandelier. . ._ I told myself._ Yeah, don't think about heights. Even thought the chandelier is supposed to be above me, I shouldn't be afraid. Yeah, I'm simply standing next to it. . .Oh gosh, I'm really high up._ I thought sheepishly.

"Clare?" I heard Erik ask with concern gripping tightly to his voice. "Are you sure you're alright?"

I could only imagine how stupid I had looked. I stiffly nodded. "Yes, I'm f-fine. Why would you think otherwise?" I asked, trying to brush it off in a calm manner.

"Well," Erik said. "You look extremely fascinated with the chandelier, and you're doing an extraordinary good job with keeping your eyes off the ground." He pointed out. I practically had to choke back a sheepish laugh. How Erik could scrupulously detect these things, I had no idea. I guess you could say that he was observant.

"Clare, are you afraid of heights?" He asked when I didn't respond. He glanced down at my hands that were clutching onto the gold railing. His visible eyebrow creased in a worried manner. I hadn't even realized that I was gripping on the rail. His eyes studied my white knuckles until I reluctantly let go of it.

I stepped away from the railing. His blue topaz eyes followed me. "Yes, I suppose you could say so." I admitted. "Although, I think I'm mainly afraid of falling." I added in.

Erik looked at me like he was holding my eyes in his. There was something about his beautiful eyes. They made me grow weak in the knees. It made my breath hitch in my throat, and make butterflies dance in my stomach. "Many fear that. But don't fret over such a thing, Clare. I won't let you fall." His words were wrapped in his velvet voice, and cascaded into my ears. His voice itself sounded like music.

_I already have fallen. . ._My mind though as I looked back into his eyes.

My heart felt like it was melting in a puddle. Instead of gushing over him, I gave him a warm smile. Erik's lips gently pulled themselves in a small smile, when he saw my smile. He gave me a kind and gentle smile. His smile made my heart glow.

On stage, I heard Carlotta returning. She responded to the audience, reassuring them that she had returned. Realization snapped in my brain as the memory of Joseph Buquet arriving at the very same spot as where Erik and I stood, slipped into my mind. My smile instantly vanished from my face, and I felt my eyes grow when I realized that. Erik's eyes grew serious and worried when he saw the panicked look in my eyes. His smile slowly disappeared from his face. Before he could ask what was wrong, I thought fast, and I tenderly held my stomach. I uttered a few groans. I cringed, and doubled over a little. "Ooh, I don't feel very good." I moaned. "I knew I shouldn't have looked over the edge." I added in, as I pretended to straighten up.

My forced pained expression must had been very believable, because Erik continued to look at me with worried eyes. "C-Could we go back? I think I would feel much better if I lied down for a while." I pleaded. Erik nodded, with understanding eyes. "Of course." He said as he led me towards the door. Seeing how uncomfortable my stomach supposedly felt, Erik kindly wrapped an arm around me, and hugged me close to him as he helped me walk towards the door.

"Thank you." I breathed out, gratefully. Erik gently pushed open the door with one hand, and led us in. "You're very welcome." He said as he carefully walked us to the right door. I decided not to take advantage of the time I had with Erik. I gently rested my head against him, enjoying the fact that I was in his arms. I savored the candle wax and rose scent that gently cascaded around me. I knew that Erik wouldn't question or wonder why I was practically snuggling closer to him. He probably thought that I wasn't feeling well at all, and I was growing weary. I felt the warmth from him begin to radiant around me, making me feel so welcomed.

"I'm sorry, I hope this isn't too much trouble." I said softly. As Erik led me into the cramped room, I surprisingly heard him chuckle a little. "Don't apologize, Child." He said as he closed the door. Faintly, I heard Carlotta out on the stage. Her voice sounded a little muffled since I wasn't in the theater, but I still understood what she was saying.

"You cannot-a speak, but kiss me in my-" She suddenly uttered a rather loud gasp. The theater grew silent for only a brief moment before laughter began emitting in the air.

I giggled a little. I looked up at Erik, finding a smirk tugging at his lips. The two of us laughed a little before Erik helped me get through the tight spaces in the room. I quickly looked through the small round window, beginning to feel giddy. As the audience's laughter died down, Carlotta sheepishly began singing again. From the window, I saw Carlotta's scared form on stage. Her eyes nervously darted around the room, as she sang with a wavering voice.

"Poor fool, he makes me laugh." She then continued singing in a laughing manner, until a croak escaped from her throat. Becoming humiliated, she tried re-picking up the line, only to utter another unpleasant gasp. Laughter filled the air as she kept trying to sing again, only to fail miserably each time.

Erik and I laughed together, until a sound interrupted us. From outside the room, we heard a door opening. A pair of hesitant steps quietly thumped on the wood in the other room. I felt the blood drain from my face as I realized that the footsteps belonged to Joseph Buquet. His footsteps faded as he moved further away, in another direction. I faintly heard him climb a few stairs before he opened the door that led higher up in the rafters. Barely noticeable, but I heard the door quietly click behind him. I silently released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. But as soon as I looked at Erik, I felt my breath hitch in my throat.

Erik's full attention was on the sound of the intruder, with his eyes narrowed towards the door. A determined look flashed in his blue eyes. Erik looked as though he decided right then, that he was tired of dealing with Buquet, and strongly wanted to take care of that. I could see in his eyes how he wanted to kill Buquet, and get him out of the way. Erik stared at the wall as though his eyes had gone right through, and pierced through Buquet, and killed him. Erik's intense eyes could strike someone down from a mile away.

Without saying a word, he took a step towards the door. I hastily grabbed his inner elbow. "Wait!" I cried out. His head snapped back to look at me, upon feeling my contact. Realizing that I had his attention, I racked my brain for something to say. "I-I really don't feel good. Could you please take me back _now?_" I begged, putting on my pained face.

Erik stared back at me with unchanged eyes, not truly fazed by my weak form. "I'll return in just a moment." He said before he quickly slipped from my loose grasp. Erik slipped right through the tight spaces in a blur. "Wait!" I called before he got too far. My voice caught Erik right as he laid his hand on the doorknob. He stopped in his tracks.

"What is it now, Child?" He asked bluntly, as he turned to look at me with impatient eyes. Fear rushed into my heart as I desperately tried to stop him. I realized that things weren't going to plan. My own plan was withering right in front of me. My excuses weren't working, and I was miserably failing.

"I really, really, _really_ don't feel well. I want to go back right now. Please, I need to lie down." I pleaded, helplessly. I hunched over, and held my stomach, forcing myself to look weak in front of him. "Clare, I give you my word that I'll be back in just a moment. I'll return before you even know it." With that, he nearly flew out the door with his cape casting a shadow behind his form.

. . .

**That's the end of this chapter! So, what's gonna happen next? Is Clare gonna stop Erik? You guys will find out in the next chapter!**

**Thank you again for all of your reviews. :D**

**I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Thank you for reading. Please review! It makes my day!**


	13. Damsel in Distress

**I've been looking forward to posting this chapter! **

**Well, thank you for those who did review. The reviews mean a lot to me! So thank you!**

**I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, or its music. I only own my OC. **

**Enjoy!**

**. . .**

_No!_ My mind screamed. _This can't happen!_

I rushed past the cramped room, and to the door. I shoved past the door, not caring if it loudly slammed against the wall. My heart raced in panic. My eyes frantically scan the room, finding it empty. _Dammit!_ My mind yelled. Erik had already left. It was as though he had never stepped foot in that room. I bolted towards the door right across from me. I knew it was the one that Erik most likely took, since it led further up the rafters. I flew right up the small case of stairs, skipping a couple of steps at a time. I pushed by the door, and reluctantly stopped, only to look around. I found myself in an unfamiliar room, and anxiety grew rapidly in my heart.

_This can't happen, this can't happen!_ My mind thought over and over. I went through random doors, praying that I would catch Erik in time. I could hardly even think straight, because I was growing more and more frantic. _I thought that maybe, just maybe, Erik would change. I guess I was wrong. It's too early ye to see much of a change. Well, he has had some change in heart, but not enough to keep him from killing Buquet!_

_. . ._

I frantically searched for Erik, along the rafters in the theater. Below me, everyone on stage were in a frenzy as they tried to get the ballet ready. The women on stage gently guided the sheep on the stage, as other women were swinging on elegant swings with ropes decorated with flowers and vines. I ran across the rafters, trying to catch up with Erik. The platforms swayed and wobbled as I ran across them, making me feel extremely uneasy. Every time the platforms swayed from under me, an image of me falling to my death played in my mind. Beams of light hit my face from the stage below. The rays danced on y form as I reluctantly ran across the platforms. I tried my best not to look down, but it was nearly impossible to, since I had to watch carefully where I stepped. My stomach knotted up tightly making me cringe. I felt like I needed to lie down in a fetal position to make the pain stop, but I knew I had no other choice than to find Erik. Below me, the ballerinas danced, and hopped joyfully, and received smiles from all over the audience. The music cascaded gracefully through the air, making the scene below look so innocent and pure. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a dark form grab a hold of rope, and began to climb it. I gasped, and skidded to a halt as my eyes flew to the scene.

Off in the distance, I saw Erik climbing up the rope hastily, as Buquet desperately tried to escape, in utter fear. In a heartbeat, I took off for that direction. _Stop!_ I wanted to scream, but I couldn't get it out. Only rapid gasps of air came from me. My lungs ached, and begged me to stop to catch my breath. I ignored the cramp in my side as I neared closer. I watched right before me, how Buquet climbed higher up in the rafters. Erik climbed up the rope quickly. I ran as fast as possible trying desperately to ignore the pain in my chest. My throat drew dry from my attempts of breaths. I watched as Erik's form disappeared above.

By the time I got there, I anxiously grabbed a hold of the rope. I then realized how hard I had been on my legs when I felt them trembling from under me. It also could've been because I was feeling anxiety. I looked up, and found Erik wasn't there. Instead, I saw Buquet running away frantically above me. My legs continued to tremble as I stood there, with fear pooling at the bottom of my heart. My breath hitched in my throat when I saw Erik swing onto the platforms above me, right behind Buquet. An evil smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, as he worked his way to Buquet. _No!_ My mind screamed.

I hastily leaped onto the rope. I gripped tightly on the rope, as I felt the rope swing back and forth. My stomach turned in response. I swallowed hard, trying to shove away my fears. I pinned the rope between my knees and feet, as I pulled myself higher up. I didn't dare to look down. I knew that if I did, I would either hurl, or pass out. . .Possibly both. I tried to take even breaths as I climbed higher. My finger nails dug into the palms of my hands as I gripped onto the rope. I could feel the skin growing tight over my knuckles, making them turn white. My arms trembled slightly as I continued to pull myself higher up. My heart pounded in my chest, and I was nearly convinced that the whole theater could hear my racing heart. I only managed to take shallow breaths. My attempt of even breaths, was definitely a fail. I gasped when I heard Buquet cry out when he stumbled and landed on the platform. _NO! Gosh, no!_ My mind screamed. I could hear his breaths were rapid from fear and he whimpered as he tried to get up.

I then finally reached the platform, and I hastily leaped off from the rope. I saw Buquet lying on the round, struggling to get up, as Erik stalked closer, from behind him. Erik's back was faced towards me, and they were approximately forty yards away from me. I knew that I could reach them just in time. I would stop this murder. I was determined that I would.

As soon as my feet landed onto the platforms, I heard a loud bang. Not the kind of bang that came from a gun, but more like the ropes that held the platforms up, had snapped. I practically screamed when the platform gave out from under me. I thought for sure that I would fall until everything around me suddenly snapped to pure darkness. Until everything grew silent. Until my conscience died instantly. Until I was gone. But instead, I immediately hit something hard. I thought that death had come much sooner than I had expected. Although I knew I wasn't dead when I realized that I could still hear the orchestra playing, and the light from the stage continued to nearly blind me. I frantically looked around finding that I was lying on the platform, but a rope had busted out from the wall, that held the platform in place. Only three other ropes held me and the rafter up. My fingers dug into the spaces between the wood, as I tried to keep myself from rolling off. Before I could even get a chance to scramble up, I heard another _bang._

I screamed as the rafter fell, and swung forward. I felt like I was going to have a heart attack when I realized that I was helplessly dangling from the air. The rafter that was originally horizontal like a normal platform was then hanging vertical from the ceiling. My fingers were gripped tightly through the spaces of the wood. My finger nails dug into it, as I held on for dear life. My whole body began to tremble in utter fear._ Is this really happening?_ The music continued to play, nearly convincing me that it was real. Though part of me said it was just my stubborn mind, playing tricks on me. I wanted to know if it was real enough that I had managed to gain enough courage to look down. The ballerinas were twirling in circles from under me. I knew right then that Erik was trying to strangle Buquet.

I was beginning to grow horribly dizzy as I watched them spin in circles, and as the rafter swung in place. It seemed as though the ground grew further away each second, as though it was stretching. I had never felt so vulnerable before. Silver spots began to swim in my vision. _No! No!_ I was crying on the inside._ Don't you __**dare**__ fall unconscience! _My mind screamed.

I trembled uncontrollably. My fingers tightened through the cracks of the wood as my forehead beaded with sweat. Before I knew it, a shrill cry escaped from me. "Phantom!" I screeched, utterly horrified. I felt my fingers ache, and cramp up. Although no matter how awful they felt, I didn't dare to loosen my death grip. As my scream had echoed throughout the whole theater, everyone on stage stopped what they were doing. I heard gasps and the word _phantom_ emit from all around. The ballerinas on stage looked around. Their eyeliner made them look so frightened, and I knew that the fear in their eyes wasn't part of the act. The audience looked around from their spots, looking for any signs of the phantom. Even Raoul glanced around with suspicion in his eyes. His eyes scan the room, warily, until Firmin stood up from his and Andre's box. He tried to reassure the audience, not to panic, and that everything was alright. After a long hesitation, everyone gradually settled back down. The ballerinas looked very nervous, but they eventually picked up where they had left off.

I looked away from the scene below me when silver spots rapidly tried to cloud my vision. My breaths were shallow with fear. My heart pounded in my ribcage that I thought it was going to leap from my chest. I could hear it thumping loudly, as though it was pounding in my ears. My hands grew clammy, as my whole body formed a layer of sweat over my skin. It then felt as though my heart was in my throat. I could still feel the blood drain from my face. I closed my eyes as more silver spots clouded my vision Even when my eyes were closed, I still saw the spots dancing rapidly. Erik's words then echoed in my mind.

_'Don't fret over such a thing, Clare. I won't let you fall. . ."' _His whispering velvet voice teased in my mind.

_I already have fallen. . ._ My mind said, almost convincing me that I had said it out loud. I wasn't quite sure what was and wasn't real by that point. An angel's voice then flooded into my ears. "Clare!" The voice was very familiar, and sounded so much like music. The angelic voice called out again, making me faintly recognize it. It took me a moment to identify the voice belonging to Erik. His voice sounded so panicked. His voice grew closer as his footsteps did. I then felt him grab a hold of one of the ropes that continued to hold me up. I felt myself getting pulled up. I faintly heard Erik trying to say soothing and reassuring words to me. I didn't understand every word because of a loud ringing in my ears. Though somehow, I barely managed to hear him tell me to stay focused on him, and to hang in a little longer. He was begging me to stay with him, and not to give up. I slowly began to understand more of his words.

"Clare, please, bear with me a little longer." He pleaded anxiously, as he continued to pull me up to his level. I opened my eyes for a brief moment, finding silver spots lingering in my vision. My stomach turned in response. I immediately closed my eyes, hoping that it would help again. My whole body shook, and it seemed impossible to stop my quaking form. My head was pounding, as a ringing sound tried to overpower my ears. The bones in my arms felt like they were aching deep down. My arms trembled in response. My fingers were throbbing, and I could feel my nails breaking as they desperately dug into the wood. I then heard Erik's voice right in my ear. The candle wax and rose scent gently clouded over me in a warm embrace. His arms anxiously wrapped around my quivering form. "Clare." He breathed out in relief.

I opened my eyes, reawakening the silver spots in my vision. I saw that I was in Erik's arms, but I was still clutching onto the rafter. _Am I really here?_ Was I really in Erik's arms, or was my mind playing a cruel joke? I was too scared to loosen my grip on the rafter. "Clare," He whispered in his velvet voice. "You are okay. I've got you. . ." He cooed in my ear. I hesitated for a moment, before I reluctantly let go of it. My fingers ached horribly as I tried to stretch them out. Unsure if I was truly alive, I turned to llok at Erik.

Through the silver spots, I saw Erik's white mask swimming in my vision. Beneath the mask, his eyes were so panicked as he looked into my own eyes. Realizing it was all real, I immediately threw my arms around his head, and crushed myself close to him. My heart raced, fearing that I would fall. I clung onto him like my life depended on it. Erik stroked my hair, and murmured comforting words to me as I trembled in his arms.

I looked over and saw Buquet sitting on a rafter in the distance. He stared at Erik and I, utterly horrified. I faintly noticed the noose lying next to him. He stared at us before he quickly scrambled onto his feet, and ran away as fast as possible, running as far as his legs would carry him.

I looked back into Erik's eyes. I tried to look back into his eyes through the silver spots, although it was nearly impossible. "Clare. . ." He said, as his voice began to fade away. "Stay with me. . ." I desperately tried to hold onto his words, as his voice drowned in my ears. It was useless, though. The last thing I saw was Erik's topaz blue eyes swimming in my vision before the silver spots clouded over him. Right then, I felt myself drift.

. . .

**That's the end of this chapter! Oooh, I knew that some of you guys thought that Erik was gonna kill Buquet. So, is this a shocker? Heehee, I love writing! I had fun writing this scene. I wanted something new to happen for this part. Buquet always gets killed off, but I wanted this to work out a little differently for my story. You guys may find other shockers through my story. Suspense! ;D Well, Buquet is still alive! Ah, what's gonna happen now?**

**Now, I can't promise that I'll update right on time. I'm still trying to write the next chapter, and I'm struggling a little. I'm trying to get it up soon.**

**But, any-hoo, thank you so much for reading! Please, please review! They make my day. **


	14. Slipping Under

**My goodness, thank you all so much for all of your reviews! :D I want to say a special thank you to ****Painless Anguish**** for their very nice review! Thank you!**

**I'm surprised that I actually got this up in time. I've been struggling to update every week. :/**

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, or its music. I only own my OC.**

**Also, I named this chapter after an awesome video called Slipping Under by SolitaryAngel917. I love her videos. :D P.S. I do not own SolitaryAngels917's videos, or any of the music and film used in her videos.**

**Enjoy!**

**. . .**

**Erik's POV**

I hastily took Clare's quivering form into my arms. Her skin was clammy and I couldn't cease her shakes. I felt almost horrified when I saw how she clutched the rafter with her fingers. All the muscles in her body appeared to be locked. She looked traumatized. "Clare," I whispered to her. She blindly stared off in the distance, not truly processing my words. I tried to speak to her again. "You are okay. I've got you." I cooed in her ear in a comforting manner. After a moment, her fingers barely moved, but just enough to be loosened from the rafter, and the rafter swung back in place. Her fingers were stiff, and I noticed that her nails were broken.

I held her close to me, trying to calm her. It sickened me to see her so shook up. I could feel fear fill my heart when I looked at her extra pale face. Her skin was always white to begin with, but by then, she was sickly white. I knew she was ready to faint. What really scared me was the very idea of what would've happened if I hadn't gotten to Clare sooner. She could have easily fainted before I even got to the rafter. The very thought of her falling to her death made my stomach twist. The image of her falling made me nearly tremble. The thought greatly horrified me. I had to remind myself that she was in my arms, safe, in order to calm myself down. I cradled her close to my chest, savoring that she was still here.

Clare turned to meet my gaze. Her green eyes were deep like an abyss, as she tried to process what happened. Her eyes were deep and never ending with emotion filling them as the information ghosted across her face. She didn't quite look like herself for a moment. She looked at me like she wasn't sure what was going on. She almost looked lost. She searched my eyes until the true Clare came back.

Clare then threw her arms around my head, and held onto me tightly. At first, I was taken aback from her sudden contact, that I was still new to, but I then became so relieved to see that she was herself again. I heard her breathe rapidly as she trembled in my arms. Her arms were so small, but I knew that she was holding onto me as tight as possible. Her arms were a lot _weaker_ compared to mine, but I could feel her muscles lock in her arms, as she held onto me. Seeing her so horrified, tore my heart to pieces. I couldn't stand to see my dear friend so scared. She was just a child, and didn't deserve to be so scared. I gently stroked her hair. I could feel her soft wavy red hair under my leather gloves.

"Shh. . .It's alright, Clare." I whispered. "You're safe. I'm here, everything is alright. . ." I murmured in her ear. Although her rapid breaths slowly began to calm, and turn back to a normal and steady pace, she continued to shake in my arms. I stroked her hair again. "It's alright. . ." I whispered to her.

From behind, I heard Buquet breathing heavily. I could sense his fear in the air. Just thinking of Buquet made anger bubble inside of me. I was so close to finishing him off. He was merely _seconds_ away from his death, until Clare's screams were released into the air. Buquet had always been a problem. First of all, Buquet was a foolish drunken man who always tried to track me down. . .That itself, was just _asking_ to die. . .Second of all, I had heard many times of how Buquet always attempted to hurt the young women, often times when he was drunk. I had been aware that tonight he was trying to find me. Although when Clare showed up with Buquet wandering around, I had grown awfully cautious when he came nearby. I had finally had it when he was still coming around even when Clare was right next to me. I knew that if I wasn't there to defend for Clare, she would have become another victim of his. The very thought of Buquet laying a hand on her made me want to strangle him right then and there. I couldn't risk Clare getting hurt.

_I should have killed him when I got the chance. Then I wouldn't have to worry about him even __**trying**__ to hurt Clare, or trying to track me down._

Feeling Clare tremble in my arms slowly made the anger that lingered close to my heart fade away, and replaced with concern. I pulled her closer to my chest, fearing she would somehow fall from my arms. Fearing that she would disappear. "Shh. . ." I hushed in her ear.

From behind, I heard Buquet scramble onto his feet. _Go now, Buquet. . ._My mind growled._ Go before I change my mind. . ._As if on cue, Buquet fled from the spot. His rapid footsteps pounded against the wood, and into my ears rather loudly. They eventually grew quieter like a whisper as he ran further away from us. Some of the muscles in my body twitched as I restrained myself from going after him. I felt like I was merely a second away from deciding to finish off Buquet right then. Although I greatly wanted to kill him, the small quaking form in my arms reminded me of the reason why I was fighting every urge to kill him. It took a lot of will power to stay put, but I somehow tolerated it. I listened until his footsteps faded away from my ears completely. I then looked down at Clare, who was already staring into my eyes.

She looked so_ sick_ that it frightened me. Clare looked into my eyes, but she looked as though she wasn't truly looking, merely blindly staring right passed my eyes. She looked as though she went into another daze, and wasn't fully there with me. Like her mind was elsewhere. As though her conscience was wandering further away from her._ Is she going to faint?_ Whenever I had ever seen a woman faint, it was always very sudden. Though Clare's case was different, and it was slowly building up in her. Like she was slowly being led to it. Apparently it was a slower process for her.

"Clare," I said desperately. "Stay with me." I begged. I was so distressed as I looked at her weak form. Clare's green eyes searched mine anxiously. I could see that she was struggling to stay conscience._ Don't give up._ I thought as I looked at her. An uneasy and anxious feeling filled my heart as her eyelids began to droop. Sweat soaked through her red hair, as she agitated in fear. Pity mixed into my heart as she shook. _Don't worry, Clare._ . .I thought. _I've got you. . ._

Her eyes then rolled in the back of her head, as she went limp in my arms. For a spit second, I felt horrified, though pity sunk into my heart again upon seeing her stressed yet weak form. I was about to lie her down so that the blood could circulate easier to her brain, but I knew that I couldn't lie her down on the rafter. I couldn't let her wake up realizing she was still on the rafters, and risk having her faint all over again.

I glanced at the weak rafter in front of me. _That blocks off one route. . ._I thought._ I need to go a different way._ I racked my brain, trying to remember other possible routes. With her in my arms, I turned the other direction, having to take the longer way. The platforms swayed and creaked as I walked along it. Below us, Christine came back on stage. She wore the countess's dress, and had a big beautiful grin on her lips. I wasn't sure if she was truly happy, or if she was simply acting. Either way, I should had been admiring the fact that Christine was playing the role as the countess, while someone else played as the pageboy since Carlotta was all too humiliated to even show her face on stage. I was supposed to be proud.

Although, Clare's helpless state caused me to brood and grieve over her instead. I felt sympathy for Clare. There was something familiar about seeing a child so scared and weak. It reminded me so much of my past. I wanted to somehow comfort her, even if she was unconscious. It felt like it was my duty to assuage her. I wanted to calm poor Clare. When I was a child, I always found myself near music when life was being wretched. Music was the only thing that was there for me. I never did have anyone to tell me kind words. The only kind words I ever did hear, was from music. A lot of times I found myself wishing that the kind soothing words from a song could be told to me in person.A child who listened to the kindest words that came from a song, taking in the words like they were being told to him in person. Like I were being told those nice things from another. What a pity, but I suppose a child could always pretend. . ._Oh, what a pitiful child that I sadly remember being me._ So lost. So alone. Yet, still the same.

I gently stroked Clare's hair. When I was a child, the very thought of someone using a _kind_ physical contact would've sent me into tears. It was something that I had yearned for, yet never received. I stroked Clare's hair, and gently brushed my thumb over her flawless cheek. I still wasn't very familiar with having any contact with another person. I hoped that she would never have to deal with a sorrow filled life just like mine._ Don't become like me, Clare._ I thought. I suddenly had an overwhelming urge to protect Clare from any emotional damage. I wouldn't let her become like me. No, I couldn't bear it. A soul like hers didn't deserve it.

. . .

I eventually reached a small room, where I could let Clare rest. I couldn't keep her there for the whole night, but at least for a little while longer. It wouldn't have been my first choice, since there wasn't a comfortable place for her to lie down, but I need her to lie down so the blood could circulate easier to her brain. Even if it meant she had to lie on the ground. . .This was the closest room that I could access since the other routes were blocked off. I would escort her out when she gained consciousness.

I carefully lied Clare down on the ground, and gently removed my arms away from her delicate body. As soon as I set her down, I thought it would be a good idea to check for her pulse. I hastily bit down on the wrist of my leather glove, and pulled it off. As soon as I tugged off my glove and tossed it aside, I felt the cold air touch my exposed skin, invading the warmth that had once surrounded it. With my bare hand, I gently brushed her hair away from her neck, and placed my fingers on her skin. Her skin was clammy, and feverishly warm. My fingers trailed up her neck, searching for her pulse. I found her pulse right below her jaw, which thumped normally.

This contact felt so unnatural for me. As an instinct, I had an urge to shield myself from being struck by someone for even the smallest physical touch. It had been so many years since I had been abused, but it didn't mean that I still didn't have fear lingering in my heart. Every once in a great while, I nearly found myself trying to protect myself from being hit after doing such a simple thing that would have given me a black eye when I was a child. The multiple memories of my black and blue child hood intruded into my mind.

_The wind was knocked out of me as I was thrown to the unforgiving ground. I desperately tried to gasp in air, but he kicked my ribs, forcing me to lose my breath once more. I tried to beg for him to stop, but the words were caught in my throat. Tears rushed to my eyes as I felt bruises form along my ribs once again. He stopped briefly, only allowing me to get a shallow breath before he grabbed a fist full of my unkempt hair. I closed my eyes, bracing myself to be struck again. Why? I thought. Why me?_

My eyes snapped open as I tried to force the horrible memories to vanish from my mind. I had wished my whole life that the haunting memories would just leave me. I couldn't even escape it from my dreams, for I found myself often waking up aghast, and trying to shield myself.

_Oh Clare. . ._I thought._ I don't know your childhood, but I'm merely positive that it was blissful compared to mine._ Although I knew Clare had a happier life, I knew that currently she was going through the hardest time in her life. She was young, scared and lost. Her current state kept reminding me of when I was her age. I was very scared and lost when I was a child. Not to mention that I was _abused._ Clare was fortunate to not have suffered through my same past. I certainly wouldn't allow it to happen, either. Yet I found her emotionally hurt, and that itself made me feel sympathy for her. What could I do to help her? I had an overpowering feeling to help Clare. What could I do to calm her? To end her agony?

_Sing._ I thought._ It's what always helped me. Perhaps it would help her as well._

"Masquerade. . .Paper faces on Parade. . ." The familiar soft melody escaped from my lips. Knowing she was unconscious, I found myself wishing or hoping that she would somehow hear me. "Masquerade, hide your face so the world will never find you. . ."

. . .

**I'm sorry that this chapter is so short. I didn't want to leave you guys hanging for an extra week, so I at least wanted to give you guys an update. I hope you guys liked reading from Erik's point of view! I have fun writing in his point of view.**

**I'll try to update next week, but I haven't even started my next chapter! My goodness, I'm really trying to update each week, but it's hard with school in the way. I may start updating every two weeks. Hopefully I'll be able to update soon.**

**Any-hoo, thank you so much for your reviews! I love them so much! Please, please review, I enjoy reading them! :D**


	15. Destination Unknown

** Wow, I'm soooooo sorry for the extremely late update! I know, you guys hate me right now. Bear with me here, I do have a life! Plus, I suffered with some writer's block. I hate those so much. Hopefully, I'll update a lot sooner for the next update. I'll try to update in about a week or two. Can't promise anything.**

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, guys! They mean a lot, I adore all of them. Thank you, they can really help motivate me to write some more. Not that I wouldn't. But they do help. xD **

**I found this cool song called Destination Unknown by Missing Persons. I found that the song matches up with my story, and now I think this song is ****_the _****song for my story. It just fits- I love the song now. You guys should check it out!**

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, or any songs by Missing Persons. I only own my OC.**

**Enjoy!**

. . .

**Clare's POV**

The angelic voice returned. They sang a beautiful song that I somehow recognized. The song sounded so precious and was filled with its own lighthearted beauty. Yet, it was so haunting with a sad tone shadowing itself in the song. It seemed as though the average person would over look the words, and think it was merely a simple lullaby, and the sorrow sound that lingered, would go unnoticed.

I felt like the words were wrapping around me, forming a blanket. The voice sang in an almost sorrow tone, that secretly wished that someone would hear. A voice that secretly pleaded for help. The words felt as though it took control of my heart, and cradled it in their hands. The sorrow tone in the voice told me of a great loss that belonged to them. I wasn't quite sure what they had lost, but I somehow knew that the voice simply wanted someone to understand. Whatever it was, it made me want to weep in pity. I wasn't sure why, but I felt like I knew this voice with all of my heart. I felt like I cared for them deeply.

"Hide your face, so the world will never find you. . ." The familiar words yanked a string in my heart. But why? Was it because they sounded sad? I thought hard, trying to get my head around the reason of why I felt all of this.

"Masquerade. . .Every face a different shade. . ." I slowly began to make more sense of it. The song would be sung to calm the sad and always alone soul. The soul that who wanted someone to love them back. The soul that suffered a lonely life. The soul that died to hear kind words. The soul that cried for help, and always went unheard. The soul that lost hope long ago. . .

"Masquerade. . .Look around, there's another mask behind you. . ." The voice lulled in my ear. Right as the words cascaded into my ears, an outline of a familiar half mask flickered into my mind. _The Phantom of the Opera. . ._My mind thought. I then recognized the voice. _Erik. . ._I thought back to the words I had heard not long ago at all.

_Hide your face so the world will never find you. . ._

A familiar image of Erik flooded into my mind as the lyrics did. Erik's face was exposed, and he looked at the monkey with the cymbals, with sincere eyes. His eyes almost reminded me of a child. He looked at the monkey with soft eyes, as he quietly sang with the twinkling sound that emitted from the music box. Singing to himself. The words matched with Erik's lips, before the image ran through my mind quickly. The images of Christine setting the ring in the palm of Erik's hand flickered in my mind. Erik closed his eyes, letting unforgiving tears escape, before he faded away from my mind.

_I'm sorry, Erik. . ._I thought. _I'm sorry that no one ever listened. . .Not even her. . ._

A touch gently grazed my cheek. I wasn't familiar to the touch. It was almost a touch that would be used to sooth another. It was comforting. The bare touch carefully whipped away a tear I hadn't realized had come from me. "Clare?" Erik asked softly. I opened my eyes, finding topaz blue eyes staring down at me from behind a familiar white mask. Erik's eyes were concerned and frantic all at once. His face was swimming in my eyes. I blinked a few times, hoping that it would help. Everything went clear as the tears leaked from my clouded eyes. I realized that the tears were from pity of Erik. Seeing my tears, Erik used his bare thumbs to gently rub them away. "Clare. . ." He breathed out, relieved.

"What happened?" I croaked. Erik stroked my hair, making my breath hitch in my throat. "You fainted." Erik said softly. His voice was velvet, and I sometimes wondered if he realized how much it affected me. His smooth voice could easily lull me to sleep.

I stared into his deep blue eyes. I almost felt like I was going into a daze. Erik stared back into my green eyes. Through the small daze I swore I was in, I detected concern in Erik's expression. "You almost fell, but I got to you before you could fall." He said, trying to remind me. I felt myself blindly staring into his eyes. After a moment, I found myself staring past, or perhaps through his eyes as his words sunk in. The memory then resurfaced in my mind.

_I ran after Erik's shadow hoping to catch him in time. The platform gave out from under me. A scream didn't suppress from me and I desperately held onto the rafter. Spots danced in my vision. "Phantom!"_

My voice echoed in my own mind. Erik gently stroked a hand through my hair. "I promised you that I wouldn't let you fall." He said in a low tone. The memory of Erik taking me into his arms ran through my mind.

_Don't fret over such a thing, Clare. I won't let you fall._

His words rang in my mind, convincing me that his words would always somehow find a way to haunt me. All of the events came rushing back to me. I closed my eyes, exhausted by the information pooling into my mind, restlessly. "Are you alright, Clare?" Erik asked in a low tone, pulling me from my thoughts. In his low tone, I sensed concern gripping tightly to his words. I suddenly felt a mix of emotions. Part of me wanted to cry and hug him for saving me. The other part of me scolded myself for being stupid, and putting myself in great danger.

_You idiot._ My mind spat. _You could have been killed. Just imagine what would have happened if you had fainted before Erik could have arrived in time, or if the entire rafter had fallen! Or perhaps is Erik never came back to save you to begin with._ I gulped, as I tried to suppress a shiver. "I-I guess so." I whispered. Guilt twisted at the bottom of my stomach, upon realizing how much stress I had put Erik through. He had barely managed to save me in time. _You idiot._ My mind sneered. _See what you do?_ For all I knew, rumors could have been told about me. About a random girl who fell from the rafters and met a gruesome death on the stage. Perhaps if I had fallen, I would have been the one in the papers instead of Buquet.

The memory of Buquet running away, and successfully escaping resurfaced in my mind. _Wait a second, Buquet is alive. . What's gonna happen now? _I thought. Now that Buquet's presence continued to linger, there was no telling of what would happen. I knew that he was a minor character, but that didn't mean that the storyline wouldn't change. Part of me was relieved that I barely managed to prevent a death from occurring. But now that Buquet was still running around, that meant that there were new opportunities for him, or anyone to get killed, that I had to keep an eye out for. It could happen at any time in the story. . .The story that was now unpredictable because of me. Because of my presence, this wasn't the Phantom of the Opera story that I knew. No, this was something else. This was the story that I didn't know. Because of me, something different could occur. Something that I wouldn't be prepared for.

What was I going to do? I felt so useless, yet, here I found that I had just prevented a death from occurring. _What am I going to do,__** now?**_ I groaned inwardly. Feeling defeated, I had to settle with the thought that I had to simply carry on with what I knew from the story, and go with the flow. I felt my stomach twist again as I realized that I was on my own. It was up to me to prevent anything bad from happening.

Erik reached over, and grabbed one of his black leather gloves that lied on the ground. He slipped his glove back on before standing up. His movements slowly pulled me from my thoughts. I was about to sit up, but stopped when I felt my muscles ache, making me cringe slightly. My upper arms felt like they were moaning in pain, and my fingers felt like they were screaming in agony. I knew this wasn't good for the injuries that I already had on my hand. I looked at the white bandage that was still wrapped around my wrist from the car accident. I had grown so used to the bandages, that I had completely forgotten it was there. The cuts in my wrist burned fiercely, making me realized that I probably strained them. The bruises that were already on my hand and fingers from the car accident grew even worse from the new incident. My hands were throbbing, especially my right hand since it was already suffering from injuries. I could feel new nasty bruises forming on my fingers all over again.

As Erik adjusted his glove, he looked down at me from his full height. "Clare, first I want you to sit up slowly." He instructed in a low tone. I didn't bother to argue when I met his serious eyes. I did as he said, and I hesitantly gathered enough strength to carefully sit up. My back felt stiff, but I managed to prop myself up. I felt my head spin a little, and I then understood why Erik told me to sit up carefully. Silver spots danced in my vision as my head pounded.

Feeling uneasy, I pulled my knees up, and hugged them close to my chest. I put my head between my knees as my head spun, and as the spots swam in my vision. I sat there, hoping the dizziness would pass quickly. I closed my eyes, and waited for the spots to fade. An unexpected touch on my back made me jump a little. Knowing it was Erik, I settled back down. He gently rubbed my back. Erik's kind gesture made me nearly melt. He would never understand how these kind actions made me swoon even more. He would never understand how a simple touch drove me crazy. How his voice actually made me feel closer to _home._ . .How even his simple gestures always found a way to dazzle me. Did Erik even know how much of an affect these caused for me? He made me want to melt into a puddle of pure bliss. I no longer closed my eyes from discomfort, but from pleasure. Erik continued to rub my back in a comforting manner.

"Are you alright?" He asked once more, quietly. His words managed to make my lips tug up into a smile. "Yes." I was convinced that Erik didn't notice that I was beginning to relish the moment, as he continued to tenderly rub my back. Although the silence must had deceived me, when he then spoke in a slightly questionable tone. "Well, you seem to be feeling better." He said, almost sounding a little alarmed. "Can you stand?" He asked.

_Of course I can._ I thought, baffled. _It's not like I broke my legs._ "Of course." I said as I pulled myself off the floor. As soon as I stood up, the silver spots reawakened, and it seemed as though the world began to shift and tip over. I gasped as the world shifted. I landed into something, and I felt it wrap around me. Opening my eyes, I realized that I fell into Erik's arms.

"_Without_ falling?" He bellowed. Erik helped me stand up normally. He examined my posture with his bright blue eyes, before he hesitantly let go of my shoulders. "You stood up too quickly." He said as he watched me carefully, incase I were to fall again. Collecting himself, he then sighed. "Clumsy child." He half heartily teased. _Clumsy?_ I thought. I felt my lips form into a smile. _Yes, actually I am. And I've been told that many times._

"What was your first clue?" I teased, feeling my smile growing. Erik's head snapped to look at me. I grinned even bigger at his bewildered expression. He looked as though he had been slapped, and his face was priceless. I bit my lip, trying to hold back a laugh, but I think the smirk on my face gave it away. An amused look then settled on his face. A smile pulled at the corner or his lips, as he narrowed his eyes. "Hmm. . ." He mused playfully. Erik's gaze casted aside, pretending to ponder over his answers. After a moment, he then met my gaze again. "Well, it's a fairly new theory."

I felt a giggle escape from me. "Oh, believe me, it's a fact." _Yeah, just ask my family._ I thought. The word _family_ that reached my mind, instantly made my smile drop, and twist into a small frown instead. _Family._ Oh, how hard it was to forget them. . .The sudden pain and emptiness that crawled into my heart made me wonder how I would ever find true happiness. It convinced me that perhaps I never would. I felt so alone. _Always_ to be on my own. I knew that just the reminder of my family would somehow find a way to kill every happy moment I would manage to grasp. I could see it then. One day, I would feel joy, and think to myself, _why, I haven't been this happy since I was with my family._ Then, that temporary moment of happiness would be ruined. It would be cut short, or just vanish. Instead, a sick sorrow feeling would crawl into the bottom of my stomach, which would always be known as feeling homesick.

I wanted to live a life filled with smiles and laughter, just like how I had always pictured it. Not a sorrow life, filled with bitter tears, and twisting frowns. Would I ever escape from this. . .This. . .Depression?

"Is something wrong?" Erik's concerned voice snapped me away from the dark and mourning sadness that had invaded into my heart. My eyes, that had trailed away, managed to meet Erik's eyes once more. _Don't be sad in front of him._ I thought. _You still have him. Even if he merely looks at you as a friend. That's still something. Some say that friends are chosen family members. You're not alone._ I didn't bother to force a smile, since I felt it come naturally. It was smaller, but, it was still a smile.

"No, nothing's wrong." I said quietly. Erik studied my eyes, with his wary ones. "You looked like something was upsetting you a moment ago. . ." I wasn't sure if he was accusing me, or if he was questioning me. Although at the same time, he sounded caring. I felt a bit guilty for worrying him, but I shook my head. "No, not anymore." I admitted. He looked at me with sympathetic eyes. His eyes told me that he understood whatever pain I felt. Perhaps just pain itself. I wasn't sure if I wanted to hug him for caring, or hug him for the pity I felt for him.

Erik opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. Instead, he averted his eyes to the ground, and I saw him knit his visible eyebrow towards the other one as he collected his thoughts. "Is. . .Is it something I should be concerned about?" He asked carefully, before meeting my eyes again.

"No. I'm fine." I reassured. I could see in his blue eyes that he didn't fully believe me, but decided not to press on anymore questions. "Alright. . ." He said a bit reluctantly.

Suddenly, a familiar voice echoed from the theater, catching my attention. I recognized the beautiful and flawless voice belonging to Christine. Although, I certainly didn't recognize her voice being in _this_ song. "You cannot speak, but kiss me in my husband's absence." She sang in a lovely high pitch. One that I couldn't reach. I looked at Erik, feeling my eyes grow a little. "Christine got the role?" I asked him. Erik smiled a little, but something wasn't quite right. . .He didn't seem as excited about it as I imagined he would. It was almost. . .A sad smile. . . "Oui, she did." He nodded. His smile seemed fake.

"What about Carlotta?" I asked. Erik's eyes suddenly lit up by the memory of Carlotta's humiliation. His smile then turned into a real smile. Well, it was more of a devious smirk more than anything-but it looked true and not forced. "She won't show her face on stage. Someone else had to play the role of the Pageboy." He chuckled. My grin grew as Erik's did. "Really?" I asked as I giggled a little. A spark of happiness ignited in my heart when I saw his smiling face. Seeing Erik smiling was very rare. Oh, how nice it was to see him light up. . .Erik nodded, with his smirk growing into a real smile. "Oui." Erik glowed like he was proud of himself.

"She deserves it." As the words came from my mouth, Erik's smiled even more. "I agree." He chimed in. Erik opened a door that lead outside. He held the door open, offering for me to go first, as he continued to smile at me as I grinned back.

The world outside was dark and silky like Erik's cloak, that allowed the soft glow from the moon to carefully light the dark world. Snowflakes swirled through the air with the cold breeze. I carefully stepped outside, allowing nighttime's exotic and welcoming splendor to wrap around me. The cold breeze brushed past, and tickled my skin. The wind faintly whispered through the air, and ran through my hair. I felt the fresh snowflakes delicately touch my skin, greeting me, welcoming me to the beautiful night.

Knowing I was on the roof top, part of me panicked, and told me to get Erik out of here as soon as possible. I knew that if Erik saw Christine and Raoul together here, all of the progress I made to heal him would all be for nothing. All of it would go right out the door. Sure, I had only been here for a few days, but it felt like I had been here for much longer. But I knew that he wasn't strong enough yet to see Christine and Raoul so in love together.

I wished that I had arrived here years sooner, just so that maybe he wouldn't have felt so alone this whole time. Even if I was only his friend the whole time, I knew that it still would have made a difference. He probably would have been happier. He would have a strong heart. I would have made him feel beautiful, not ugly. I would have shared sweet and caring words with him, not scream in fear. I would have given him hugs, and wiped away his tears. Not abused him, nor neglect him. I would have done every nice thing that he had yearned for, and had never received from anyone. He wouldn't have had a scarred heart. He. . .He wouldn't be the emotionally hurt man that I knew then. . .

I heard the door quietly click as Erik closed it behind us. _Get Erik out of here, now!_ My mind cried out. What could I do? What could I say? I racked my brain for a solution. _Any_ solution. Anything to keep him from a broken heart. Would I have to stick with my original plan, that I wanted to go back to his lair where I could rest? Would I have to pretend that I was beginning to feel sick again? It worked last time, until Buquet got in the way. My frantic mind then screeched to a halt.

_Wait, if Buquet never died, then there's not a reason for Christine and Raoul to come up here tonight. _I thought. Realizing that was correct, I gently sighed in relief. True, Christine and Raoul in the storyline met up after seeing Buquet's death. Christine was scared, and she ran to the roof, causing Raoul to follow. Then, Raoul told her kind and sweet words, reassuring her that she would always be safe with him. After proposing, Christine would accept, only to end up breaking Erik's heart and causing several disasters to unfold. And it all happened because of Buquet's death. Sure, Buquet was still alive, but that didn't mean that Christine wouldn't eventually break Erik's heart. Christine and Raoul still loved each other, and they would sooner or later get engaged. I didn't know when it would happen, but I knew it wouldn't happen that very night. It could happen in a matter of a few days, or not until months or perhaps even _years._ But at least I din' have to worry about that very day. _Tonight, Erik is safe from a heart break._ I thought.

I smiled gently, feeling some of the tension on my shoulders get lifted off. I allowed my legs to carry me closer to the edge. The snow softly crunched under my shoes as I past the gargoyle statues. I then reached the edge, and I looked out, finding a great view of the city. The cities lights twinkled faintly all around us. The wind gently swept by, and ran through my hair. I realized how close Erik really was when I actually felt the warmth that radiated from Erik's skin carefully cloud over me. I almost jumped when I saw that he only stood a foot behind me. I then settled down, as I felt his warmth wrap around me, without his touch at all.

"I sometimes come out here during night." Erik said in his velvet voice. "In a way, it's my escape from home." He added in.

"It's pretty up here." I said as my eyes scan along the dim city lights. The wind gently blew through my wavy hair, tossing it up into the air carefully until my hair settled back down. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw several snowflakes sticking in my auburn hair. I could feel my nose turning red as I breathed in the freezing air. A shiver ran up my spine. As an instinct, I began to rub my arms, hoping to feel warmth. At least a little. "Are you cold?" Erik asked softly. I tried to suppress a shiver. "Yes, a little." I admitted, finding a cloud of my breath dancing in the air. I felt Erik step back as a rustle of clothing reached my ears. I turned around, finding his cloak swishing gently, as he fumbled with it. "What are you doing?" I asked as he gracefully took off his cloak.

Well, you look quite cold." He explained as he draped his own cloak on my shoulders. His cloak was heavy, but very warm from his body heat. His wonderful scent was thick in his cloak, and I felt his scent and heat cascade around me. "Oh, don't mind me. I'm fine-I don't need it." I said, feeling guilty that he had been so worried for me that whole night. "Anyways, I don't want you to feel cold." I said, as I tried to pull it off. My breath hitched in my throat when he suddenly grabbed a hold of my shoulders. He was very gentle, but I knew that his hands could also be very strong. Although, Erik was nice to only grab a hold of my shoulders, gently, careful not to hurt or startle me, as he simply stopped my movements. It was certainly enough to get my attention.

"Don't fret about me," He said in a stern yet smooth voice. "I don't get cold very easily. Besides, you need it more than I do." His smooth and deep voice was just above a whisper. His voice made my heart flutter, and his kind blue eyes made me want to melt as he stared back into mine, deeply. I felt like I was ready to attack him in a loving hug, but I knew that I couldn't do that to him. Especially since he loved Christine. . .

But did he _not_ know how his kindness made me love him even more? He would never understand. . .I just wanted to him to love me back, but I knew he never would. His heart was set on Christine. Not me. I also wished that I could peek into his mind to see what he thought of me. Was I merely a friend? Would he ever think of me as more?

I felt butterflies dance in my stomach as Erik gently smiled. It was his usual small smile, but it still managed to warm my heart. "If you insist." I said softly. Part of me felt guilty for him acting so nice to me. The other part of me relished it deeply. "Thank you, Phantom." I whispered as I pulled his cloak tighter around me. I saw Erik's visible eyebrow carefully knit towards the other in slight confusion. "For what?" He mused.

_For what?!_ I thought, baffled. _Where do I begin?_

"For. . .Everything." I whispered. As my words sunk in, Erik continued to look at me a bit taken aback. His eyes asked for a clue, as he fathomed it deeply. "For saving my life. . ._Again._" I said as I stared back into his eyes. I felt like he deserved a better thanks, but what could I say? There was so much to say, that I didn't even know where to begin. I half expected him to smile in return, but instead his face was straight, and serious.

"I didn't want to see my only friend get harmed." He spoke softly in his velvet voice. He looked so determined-so serious about it. A small sensation sparked in my heart when I realized how important I really was to him. I felt my own eyes soften by his words. Stepping closer, I wrapped my arms around Erik, pulling him into a hug. Erik tensed up a little, still not used to the contact. "Thank you so much." I whispered, as I rested my cheek against his chest. His clothing smelled like candle wax and roses, and I immediately relished the welcoming warmth. After a moment, Erik gently wrapped his arms around my small frame in return. "You're welcome, Cherie." He whispered. My heart fluttered when those words cascaded into my ears. _Cherie?_ I thought. _He's never called me that before. . ._

I jumped a little when I heard the door click, indicating that someone else was here. Erik tensed up as well, before he pulled away from our embrace. Erik looked over his shoulder, and there we saw Christine and Raoul. "Quick!" Erik hissed in my ear, before he hastily pulled me behind a statue. From behind the statue, we both silently watched the scene before us.

Christine had an uneasy look in her brown eyes, as she stepped outside. She didn't look as panicked as she did in the movie, but something wasn't right. Raoul turned to look at her, utterly confused. "Christine, what is this nonsense that you speak of?" Raoul nearly spat the words, as he looked at her a bit irritated. Christine hesitantly stepped away from the door, as she unknowingly played with the black ribbon that was tied around the rose. "It's a bit hard to understand. But. . .Sometimes, I just feel. . .Unsafe. Sometimes, I feel like something awful is about to happen." She explained as she met his gaze with eyes that slowly grew more and more frightened. Raoul's eyes softened. "Like what?" He asked.

_NO!_ My mind screamed._ Why are they here?! This can't happen! This __**wasn't**__ supposed to happen! Not after saving Buquet's life! No-NO! Erik can't suffer this heart break! His heart isn't strong enough!_

_. . ._

**Well, that's the end of this chappie! **

**Dun dun duuuuuuunnnnnnnnn! So, what's gonna happen now? Here we just saw that Clare had actually saved Buquet's life, and now Christine and Raoul are ****_still_**** coming up onto the roof? Why is this? And, is Clare gonna be able to keep Erik from seeing the All I Ask of You scene? How is he gonna react to all of this? We'll find out next chapter!**

**Yes, I added some fluff in this chapter, between Clare and Erik. Aww, Erik called her 'Cherie'! For those who don't know what Cherie means, it's French for 'darling' or 'dear one'. Aww, isn't Erik just sweet?**

**Thank you so much for reading! Please review-I enjoy reading each one. :D**


	16. Why Have You Brought Me Here?

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews! I love them all so much! Sorry for the late update, but finals at school haven't been very nice with free time for me.**

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, or its music. I only own my OC.**

**Well, hope you guys enjoy!**

. . .

"You wouldn't understand." I heard Christine say to Raoul as her brown eyes averted to the ground. I could see in her eyes that her mind was going a hundred miles per hour, allowing her fears that hid in the bottom of her heart, to resurface into her eyes. I could see her and Erik's past ghost across her face. I could almost _see_ her remembering how Erik sang to her all of those years. Comforting her, when she missed her father, by him taking advantage of her father's word of an Angel of Music. All the times he urged her to sing. Christine's eyes darted across the ground as she tried to piece everything together.

"Please," Raoul said as he stepped closer. "Tell me what's on your mind." He said with kind eyes. She met his gaze, but despite the caring gestures, she shook her head slightly, not knowing what to truly do with her bottled up fear. She took small steps closer to him, but her eyes wandered blindly along the snow covered ground. "Raoul, you just wouldn't understand." She said softly as she met his gaze. Raoul stood there for a moment as he collected her words.

"I'm willing to learn." I noticed that he was careful to use a soft tone. Although it sounded almost like an offer, and he was cautious about Christine's feelings, as though she would break. Not necessarily that his tone really would have startled her, but he made sure to use a soft tone just in case, to point out that he really was caring. To make him look like a gentleman.

I couldn't decide if I hated the guy, or if I respected him. Part of me wanted to smack him upside the head for acting so perfect. Yet at the same time, I knew that he was actually a good man, for just being there for Christine. Although, it felt like he was the reason why Erik suffered through the heart break. _Why did Christine choose Raoul? _Part of me sneered that he was an idiot for never listening to Christine's worry some warnings. He was so stubborn for not believing, for not _understanding_ why she feared such things. Although the other part of me knew that he was still a good guy, like most casual men. After all, he was a gentleman to Christine, and there wasn't a true reason for me to hate him.

Hell, for all I knew, perhaps _Christine_ was the one to point fingers at. Even _she_ was stupid at times. But no matter who I would blame, I found that it wasn't entirely their fault either. Looking at Christine's eyes, I felt like I was looking into my own. Not color wise, but personality wise. When she was scared, the same identity of fear showed like how mine would. The only difference would be our various fears. If she was mad, her eyes would burn like how mine would whenever I was mad. Rarely did I _ever_ see Christine actually mad, since she was usually fearful or sad instead. But in my case, I became irritated or mad at the correct time for logical reasons why. I imagined that if someone insulted Christine, she would merely remain quiet as her heart sunk. Although my own hear would sink after being insulted, it would also grow a hard shell around it to protect my secretly tender emotions. In this way, I felt that I related with Erik when someone stepped on his heart, or over all, hurt his feelings.

But, when Christine cried, tears would fall from her eyes just like how mind would. And. . .When her eyes would light up with love or joy, I found that mine did when I felt similar emotions. I found that Christine's eyes were just like every other girl's eyes, just like how mine were. Christine and I were more similar than I had ever really realized. We were both girls who dreamed of love, and had thoughts of joy like every girl. We were both just like any other girl. And because of this, I couldn't blame Christine for the whole mess. I couldn't blame the feelings that she felt in her heart when she looked at Raoul, for it was part of love- something that _everyone_ felt. And I couldn't blame her for feeling awe when she heard Erik sing. Why, she had a wishful heart, dreaming of love, believing or secretly wishing for a fairytale like every other girl. How could I blame a girl who had a heart like mine?

Perhaps it was even Erik to blame. Even though Erik knew Christine most of _her_ life, he still took great advantage of everything, later to try to manipulate what she thought. Although, if Erik never sang to her, to reassure that he was her angel of music, would she even be the same Christine that everyone knew? Perhaps if he hadn't, Christine would _still_ be trying to recover from her father's death. Perhaps what Erik did wasn't to manipulate, but to merely help her. Perhaps his kindness pulled her from the ruble of mourning, and gave her something to believe in. Even if Christine still secretly cried for her father, at least her Angel of Music helped her stand back up, after her life had pushed her down. At least Erik helped her. Even if it was just a little bit. Yes, even if he had helped her because he wanted her to sing for him, he still managed to pull her from the depression, before it could have gotten worse. Whether his kindness was intended or not, he still aided her heart. Even if his _selfish_ need was for her to sing, it still helped her. Claiming that he was her Angel, gave her hope. It was what lit her world again when it was dark. _Although_, he would quickly take greater advantage of being her Angel as the story progressed. I knew that even if I was there, eventually he would at least try to do the very same thing.

Who was to blame? There weren't true reasons to point fingers at anyone. Perhaps _no one_ was to blame, but merely the emotions that they all felt. Perhaps, it was just that the wrong people were thrown in the story, at different times for different reasons, and eventually all crossing paths, causing a horrible mess to unfold. They were all there, for different reasons. And they all felt such things for different reasons, thus acting in such ways for different reasons. Really, no one was to blame. Some say that bad things happen for a reason, and that fate has something planned out for us. _Maybe I'm here to help Erik in the end._ I thought. I then mentally shook my head. _Wishful thinking._ My mind spat. _You are definitely a girl who dreams of love. . ._ I was pulled away from my thoughts when Christine spoke after she collected her thoughts.

"I feel like something awful was supposed to happen tonight. . .I-I just don't know what." Raoul slowly walked towards Christine, as she continued. "I know Raoul, that it's been a long time since we've last talked, but, I felt it was best to tell you about this. Meg wouldn't have listened. . .And I know my concern sounds childish, but it won't leave me alone." She dreadfully whispered in a slightly uneven tone. Fear or perhaps anxiety was easily admit in her voice.

Raoul gently took her hands into his. Christine still grasped the rose in between both of their hands, but Raoul didn't pay much attention to the rose with the black ribbon, that she held onto. Christine's eyes darted up to meet Raoul's, when he suddenly caressed her hands into his. "Christine. . ." Raoul began, with a soft tone. "Whatever it is that you're afraid of, know that you are safe with me. There's nothing to be scared of." He said in a low, calm tone. Instead of her eyes brightening up, her eyes remained frightened. She shook her head slightly, shooting down Raoul's words.

"No, Raoul. You don't understand. . ." She whispered. "I feel like he's going to try to do something awful." She explained. I practically saw a question develop in his eyes, as she spoke. After a moment, Raoul's eyes suddenly hardened. "_He?"_ Raoul sneered. Tearing his hands away from hers, he spun on his heel, storming the other direction, clearly irritated. "There is no Phantom of the Opera." He bellowed doubtfully, before he stopped in front of one of the gargoyle statue's, and whirled back around to face Christine from a distance away. I could see fear reawaken in Christine's brown eyes, frantic to convince Raoul as she hastily walked down the small steps, closer to Raoul.

"Raoul, I've been there," She sang in a wavering voice. "To his world of unending night. . .To the world where the daylight dissolves into darkness. . .Darkness. . ." I felt fear leap into my heart as her familiar dreadful words cascaded into my ears. _Oh no._ I thought, feeling my heart skip a beat. _No, this can't be happening! Erik can't see this!_ Tearing my eyes away from Raoul and Christine, my head whirled around to look at Erik. His eyes were locked on the two, with wary eyes, deeply listening to them. I desperately grabbed his arm, and his attention snapped to me, upon feeling my sudden contact. "We have to leave." I whispered hastily to him.

Erik's visible eyebrow knitted towards the other, as he looked into my suddenly frantic eyes. "Why?" He asked, as he narrowed his eyes slightly with suspicion. I racked my brain for an excuse._ Anything_. I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "W-We just have to go. _Now_." I rambled, hoping that my words managed to block out Christine's voice. But I knew that my weak, helpless plead was no use. I knew it once Erik's eyes drifted back to Christine, as her audible voice swam through the air.

"Raoul, I've _seen_ him," She sang, with horror flooding into her brown eyes as she neared closer to him. "Can I ever forget that sight? Can I ever escape from that face?" Her eyes drifted towards the ground, as Erik's exposed face ghosted across her own face. "So distorted, deformed, it was hardly a face in that darkness. . . Darkness. . ." I felt my breath hitch in my throat as I heard those dreadful words. _No. . ._ My mind said. I closed my eyes, feeling my very own heart tear when I heard nothing but utter silence from Erik. It was as though his world had screeched to a halt. And I knew then, that a new wound had been carved deep into his heart.

. . .

**Okay guys, I know this is really short, but I at least wanted to post a little something-I didn't wanna keep you hanging for another week. I meant this chapter to be a lot longer, but it's still in progress. I blame school for getting in the way. **

**Well, I wanted this to be the 'All I Ask of You' scene, but that will be the next chapter! Bleh, I'm sorry for the wait, guys!**

**I hoped you liked it anyways. We'll see what happens with Erik's heart soon. **

**Thanks for reading! Please review! Each one makes my day. :D**


	17. All I Ask of You

**Thank you guys for all the reviews! I'm really beaming from some of them! Now you guys get to read in Erik's POV for 'All I Ask of You'.**

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, or its music. I only own my OC.**

**Enjoy!**

. . .

**Erik's POV**

It's funny how such words could manage to change everything. Christine's words sunk to the very bottom of my heart. _Distorted, deformed?_ I thought. My heart ached horribly when she said it. . .Not necessarily that it was a carefully selected word choice, but because I knew it was true. I couldn't argue. I couldn't say that it was exaggerated. It was true. And I never once, in my entire life, believed otherwise.

I numbly watched the scene before me, feeling like I wasn't truly there. I felt as though part of me had died right then, and I was simply an outcast from the side, silently watching. Watching in agony. I watched as Christine's doe eyes slowly fell to my red rose that I had left just for her. The rose that I had carefully tied the silk black ribbon onto the steam. The best rose that I chose just for my Christine. Slowly, her brown eyes drifted away from the rose. In her doe eyes, I could see her words playing in her mind. Her beautiful eyes wandered through the air, allowing her thoughts to dance in her mind, and linger in her eyes, as such emotion ghosted across her face. I wasn't quite sure what emotion I saw. I wasn't sure whether it was fear, or. . .Pity.

I quickly stepped behind the statue, pulling both Clare and I out from Christine's site. "Phantom-" I heard Clare whisper, beginning to sound frantic. Drowning out Clare's plead, I listened carefully to Christine. "But his voice filled my spirit with a strange, sweet sound. . ." Even in the flawless tone of her voice, I detected that her voice trembled slightly. "In that night there was music in my mind. . .And through music, my soul began to soar. . ." The lovely note that that she hit nearly made a shiver run up my spine. "And I heard, as I've never heard before. . ." She sang quietly, before the _boy_ cut in.

"What you heard was a dream, and nothing more. . ." _You idiot. _My mind spat. _You think I'm not real? You fool!_ "Yet in his eyes, all the sadness of the world. . ." Christine sang. "Those pleading eyes, that both threaten and, adore. . ." She sang softly. _Threaten and adore?_ I thought. I never realized that she had noticed. I never noticed that my emotions were that easy to read. . .Were they that obvious? I had imagined that my emotions were subtle. But did my very own eyes give away the things I secretly felt in my heart? Or was it simply I, who gave in when I looked into Christine's eyes? The boy's voice suddenly caught my attention.

"Christine. . .Christine. . ." He called out to her. _How dare he!_ My mind sneered. _Only __**I**__ deserved to call out to her. Only __**I**__ deserved to comfort her. __**I**__ am her Angel. Not __**him.**_ I knew that I had to remind Christine who was her Angel.

"Christine. . ." I called out, in a whisper. A whisper that was carried through the wind and was sent straight to her. And only her. A whisper that only she would hear. I said is softly enough, so that the average person would pass it off as the wind, and nothing else. _Listen to me, Christine._ I thought, desperately. _Listen to me, not him. Remember that I'm your Angel._ Instead of Christine's usual answer, reassuring that she had heard me, I was met with silence. A long dreadful silence. I waited, for what seemed like an eternity, hoping that she would eventually respond. But as the silence continued, I began to realize that my heart was rejected. It was on its own. Christine wouldn't answer my plead. . .

I felt Clare's small, thin hands gently grab my arm again. I looked down, finding her green eyes huge with a deep concern. "Phantom," She begged desperately. "_Please."_ She said with a wavering tone. She sounded like she was on the verge of tears. But I couldn't figure out why she was so anxious to leave. _Did she know this was going to happen?_ I thought. Her big green eyes had a dreading fear that showed. But what was it that she dreaded? "Please." She begged helplessly, as I watched her breath form a white cloud from her mouth, and quickly disappeared in the air. Her pink nose from the cold was hardly any of my concern, rather than her frantic green eyes. She looked like she couldn't leave the spot fast enough. She looked almost _scared._ I knew that she wasn't scared of me. Instead, she almost looked as though she was scared _for_ me. But Clare was _supposed_ to be scared _of _me. After hearing Christine's accurate description of me, I knew that my horrifying appearance was real. For the moments I had Clare around-and only Clare, I found myself forgetting about my wretched face from time to time. I nearly forgot that I beheld a monstrous face. For a short time, I would even dare say that I actually felt normal. But Christine's words reawakened reality. It reminded me, that I would never live a normal life. What a harsh awakening. But I was a fool for falling for the ridiculous idea of happiness for the few moments I had felt it.

"_Why?"_ I found myself snapping at Clare. I instantly regretted my harsh tone when I saw Clare nearly cringe. Even I wanted to recoil away from myself, in regret, when I felt the word fly from my mouth. "Forgive me." I muttered quietly to her. I looked down at the ground, blindly staring at the light sheet of snow beneath my feet. I actually felt _guilt_ pool into the bottom of my heart, as I thought of my harsh attitude. It was still very odd how one girl managed to make me feel bad for such things so easily. Before her, it wouldn't have bothered me at all. But Clare had the exotic ability to make my mistakes linger in the back of my mind.

"It's hard to explain, but trust me when I say that we have to leave." Clare whispered hastily, neglecting my recent harsh attitude. I had to admit, I was shocked that she wasn't mad. I wasn't sure if I was happy because she wasn't irritated, or upset that I hadn't been snapped at like how I deserved it. No doubt about it, Clare was definitely exotic. I was pulled away from the physical silence that crept, subtly in the air, and from the mental noise that ran restlessly through my mind, as the _boy's_ voice softly filled the air.

"No more talk of darkness. Forget these wide-eyed fears. I'm here," He sang softly. "Nothing can harm you, my words will warm and calm you. . .Let me be your freedom, let daylight dry your tears. I'm here, with you, beside you. To guard you and to guide you. . ." His words nearly made me want to recoil away, as though I had been struck. He made me sound as though I had never provided those things to my dear Christine! Christine had been perfectly safe all of these years, until she saw the hideous monster that hid under the mask. But _I_ was the one who calmed her all of these years. When I first saw her, she was just a child, who dearly missed her father, and tenderly held onto the promise of an Angel of Music. As heartless as it sounded, originally I didn't have anything to do with her, and didn't care to, until I heard her divine voice. Her voice wasn't perfect, but for a child, she had a beautiful raw talent for singing. I then knew that she would have a flawless voice when she matured, with the proper training. That was when I began to sing to her, and her voice became heavenly beautiful. After the first few singing lessons, I began to feel sympathy for the poor child who missed her father. . .

_I watched Christine from the shadows. She was in the Chapel, praying to her father again. I could hear the child, whispering that she missed her father, and every once in a while, I saw a few tears fall from her face. I had never seen someone cry for another. I had never heard of such a thing. It was so different-it almost looked foreign to me. I had seen my own mother cry, but not for the same reasons. Though the scene before me was very odd, I found a new yearning sensation to help the young girl before me. I wasn't sure why, but I had an over whelming urge to dry her tears._

_"Christine. . ." I sang quietly to her. My own voice brought her to hesitantly pick her head up, with her glassy brown eyes to wander around the room. "Angel. . ?" She asked in a barely audible voice. She blindly looked around, hoping to see me. "Yes, Christine. It is me. Why are you crying?" I asked. Christine's glassy eyes drifted towards the ground, as she sniffed sadly. _

_"I miss father. . ." She said as she gently wiped away her own tears. I felt my own heart tear. "Do not cry, Child. Everything is alright." I cooed to her. I watched as Christine glanced back up, hoping to spot me. Her eyes glimmered with tears. "I just feel so alone. I miss him." She said in her tiny voice. I wished that I could hold the poor child. "Don't feel sad, Child. There's no need to feel alone, for I'm always here." A small smile alit across Christine's face. "Father promised that you would come."_

_"And I have," I agreed. "And I won't leave you. If you ever feel alone, just call. I will come." I cooed gently to her. "You promise?" She asked, with hope twinkling in her eyes. I nodded, but I knew she couldn't see me._

_"I promise." I vowed._

I was pulled away from the memory, as a new thought came to mind. _You don't know what you're talking about, __**boy.**_ I sneered on the inside. After all, _I_ was the one who had dried Christine's tears all of these years. _I_ was the one who was with her, to guard her and to guide her. This _boy_ didn't know anything. I was snapped away from my thoughts when I recognized Christine's voice.

"Say you love me every waking moment," She sang softly, utterly catching me off guard. "Turn my head with talk of summertime. . ." Right then, I could feel my own heart sinking. I felt as though my heart nearly quivered by her words. Christine's longing belonged to that boy, and not me. . .For she wanted the boy, every waking moment. . .Not me. I knew that her words would forever haunt me, but I was drawn to her words, her voice. I wanted to know more of her thoughts, yet it hurt me the more I listened. . .But I felt like I had to know more. Her voice was my gravity. Her words sunk deep, into the bottom of my heart. No matter how much it hurt, I had to know more. I carefully stepped away from the statue, not paying attention to the snow that crunched from under my shoes. I stepped further away, slowly, allowing her voice to be heard and understood by me. I carefully took in her words, allowing her voice to cascade through the cold air.

"Say you need me with you now and always. . .Promise me that all you say is true. . ." She sang as she looked at the boy, with wishful eyes. She looked at him with so much _love_ in her eyes. Christine wanted to hear those words said to her? If I had told her those words, would she have loved me back? Would she look at _me_ with loving eyes? "That's all I ask of you. . ." She sang before the boy quickly pulled her into his arms. "Let me be your shelter, let me be your light." He sang as he held her close. "You're safe. No one will find you." He gently pulled away, and shook his head, reassuring her that she was safe, with serious, yet kind and understanding eyes. "Your fears are far behind you." He sang as he gently held her hands in his, and carefully led her to follow him.

I could see different emotions mix in her drown doe eyes. She looked like she felt slight discomfort, feeling fear or concern drew together in her heart, not knowing what to feel. She looked so youthful and innocent, with such fears that she fretted about in her heart. She looked so fragile in the heart. Like she was afraid to admit such emotions in her heart that she secretly felt, and she wanted to break free. How strong she was for holding herself together for so long. But I could see, I could _feel_ her strength giving away. I wasn't entirely sure what it was that she fought so hard for, but I felt like I was part of its fault. I wasn't sure if she fought hard to stay with me, or to break away from me. But I could see her trying to make a decision, and it greatly worried me. I could see that, that _boy_, with his kind and 'promising' words was forming a new opinion in Christine's mindset-and a new feeling was forming in her heart, which pushed me further away. I wanted to stay-All I needed was Christine. _Don't do this, Christine._ . .I thought, helplessly. She didn't need that boy. He was promising her things that I could have easily provided.

If she wanted caring words, I would give her caring words. If she was scared, I would calm her. I could guard her and guide her, like how I had all of these years. I would tell her that I loved her every waking moment. I would tell her that I needed her with me, now and always. I would be her shelter-she would be safe, and no one would find her under my care. No one would ever harm her. Her fears would quickly fade away. She just had to bear with me a little longer. She would just have to learn how to love the man behind the mask. She would just have to see and understand the man's heart-The man who was forced to hide behind the mask. I would give her so much love and care. Much more than what that _boy_ had to offer. My heart cared for Christine's much more than that boy. I felt that every day, my love for Christine grew. Why didn't she see it?

I had lived a life of solitude, and in that loneliness, I found, that watching my beautiful Christine was my favorite pastime. Every little thing about her was what made me actually _want_ to live. Without her, I thought that surely, I would have killed myself long ago, not able to tolerate the loneliness for very long. What a horrible, bitter and lonely life I had this whole time, but Christine was the little ray of sunlight that I found myself falling for. She was the only light that had managed to cross through my dark world.

Originally, I never would have allowed myself to feel love towards anyone. Only because every time I ever did start to love someone, I discovered very quickly that they would never return such affection to someone like me. Every time, _every time_ I tried to show love, I was rejected very quickly. Every time I asked for love or care, my pleads were neglected. Every time I came near to anyone, they always recoiled away from me. I learned very quickly that no one would ever dare to find a place in their heart for me. And I was too afraid to ever offer my heart to anyone in return, because I knew, that in the end, I would be left with a broken heart. And I knew that I would be a fool to have ever hoped for someone's heart to be handed to me.

_Please don't' give up on me, Christine. . ._I sobbed internally. On the inside, I felt like I was on my knees begging. I felt like I were grasping her hands in mine, sobbing. _Pouring_ my love, straight from my heart. _Don't leave me here. _I thought._ I love you. More than that boy ever would. You are the reason why I'm still alive._ I knew that I was willing to do anything for Christine, _anything_ to pledge my love to her. To keep her with me. To show her how much I loved her. _And if that isn't love. . ._ I thought, bitterly. She better believe me when I would promise that all I said was true.

I didn't want Christine to answer the _boy_ with love. It was what I feared the most, and my empty heart, cried, begging for mercy. Begging that she wouldn't answer _his_ promise, with love of her own.

Stepping away from the boy, Christine turned away, drawing closer to the light that shown from the building. For a moment, I saw an uneasy, or fearful look in her eyes, as they drifted towards the ground. "All I want is freedom, a world with no more night. . ." She sang, causing my heart to ache horribly in grief. I knew that the _night_ that she spoke of, was me. She didn't want me in her world, yet she knew I lingered still. That was the problem. She didn't _want_ me here. I had felt much pain before. Physical and emotional pain. If I could choose which one was less painful, I would say the physical pain. After all, bones could break, but heal. Blood could come from a cut, but the wound would try to close immediately. Emotional pain, however, was harder to treat. I learned that when the heart was wounded, sometimes the wound would never heal. The pain in my heart would forever aunt, and cause agony for years to come. Sadly, I knew this because of the wounds I still felt in my heart after all of these years. I felt grief twist in my heart when Christine turned to look at the _boy_ with soft eyes, and a smile gently pulled at her lips. What made my heart ache the most, was when I saw the _love_ in her eyes, and then I knew it was official.

"And you, always beside me," She sang as she looked at him with loving eyes. "To hold me and to hide me." _This_, was what Christine wanted? I had always been there for Christine, but apparently, it wasn't enough. Apparently, she wanted to be held-she wanted someone to truly be _there._ Throughout the years, I was always careful not to get too close, because I never wanted to frighten her. I was waiting for the right time to emerge-A time when she would understand things easier-understand that there was a reason of why I hid behind the mask. I thought that she would be patient, and understanding. I knew that she missed her father, and I knew of the times that I still found her crying. But I had always been there for her-I always cradled her with my voice, and calmed her. I always helped her when she mourned, but apparently it wasn't enough. I've _cared_ for her all of these years. I had _talked_ and sang to her when she cried, when her tears dried, we sang together. Didn't _we_ have a bond? Was it never strong enough? I _gave_ her my music. I gave her the talent-the _true_ talent that she possessed. Was _that_ not love? What did that boy have to offer that I couldn't? How could she do this to me? Did all of these years mean _nothing_ to her? Was _I_ nothing to her?

_Of course you mean nothing to her._ An inner voice sneered to me. _Have you __**not**__ heard her words this evening? You're nothing more than a burden-you always have been._

Though the thoughts ran through my mind frantically, a certain ignorant fool interrupted my thoughts. "Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime," He sang with excitement pouring into his voice, as he grasped both of Christine's hands into his, causing her to follow him, as he walked back. "Let me lead you from your solitude. Say you need me with you here, beside you." The couple walked past one of the statues, very close to where both Clare and I were. For the short moment they weren't in my sight, my eyes drifted to the snow covered ground. But the images replayed in my mind, and I found myself staring off, as if in a trance. I could feel my heart growing heavier each second. Each second that their love grew for each other. All the years I had spent with _my_ Christine. . .All of them were for nothing. All wasted, so that _my_ Christine could run off with the boy.

This. . .This was a _nightmare_. I had many nightmares before. Most were real, and haunted me in my dreams. _Those_ nightmares left scars-visible along my body, especially on my back. And even those nightmares that I sadly called my childhood, left nasty scars in my heart. I was a fool for thinking that anyone would love me. My past proved it to me. And I would dare say that Clare was actually beginning to make me. . ._Enjoy _life. _But now. . ._I thought sadly. _Now a new scar was being carved right through the stitches. _All of these years, I had thought that perhaps I was slowly growing a stronger heart. I thought that a shield, or perhaps a shell had grown around my wounded heart to protect it. But apparently it wasn't strong enough. I could feel it cracking and chipping. . .

I felt so_ numb._ I wasn't sure if it was because of the cold that nearly made me tremble, or because of how cold I felt on the inside. "Anywhere you go, let me go too." The boy sang as I carefully picked my eyes off from the snow covered ground, and turned to look at them, subtly. The boy had Christine embraced in his arms, and right then, I had an over whelming urge to hold her in _my_ arms. I then realized just how long I had yearned to hold someone like that. Perhaps then, their warmth could warm the coldness I felt. Perhaps their touch could cease my trembling body, or the tears that stung in my eyes. . .Or the loneliness I felt every night when I crawled into a cold, empty bed.

"Christine, that's all I ask of you." He sang, as a loving smile tugged at her lips, clearly returning his feelings.

_No. . ._I thought, helplessly._ Don't. Please don't. You, Christine my dear, could live happily with me. Please, do not return his feelings! I love you so much more than he ever would. Don't forget me!_

I had such a strong urge to run out, and take Christine into _my_ arms, and show her, prove to her just how much I truly loved her. My legs felt locked in place though. But my arms nearly twitched, desperately wanting to feel the sensation of Christine in my arms, and the rest of my body nearly trembled, ready to have a meltdown. To my dismay, Christine said the very thing that I feared that I would hear. "Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime," She sang with excitement audible in her voice with pure happiness. "Say the word and I will follow you." Pulling away from their embrace, Christine turned to look at him, and to my fear, they were standing far too close.

"Share each day with me, each night, each morning. . ." They sang together. _No. Oh no._ I thought. _This is just awful!_ I had thought for so many hears that I could claim Christine as mine. I never gave much thought to how it would be avoided unless I drove Christine away because of my face. The idea of a fellow coming along, trying to whisk her away, was an over looked fear at the very back of my mind. Rarely did I ever think about it. But, I never thought that she would return the feelings.

I held my breath, dreading the very idea that the boy would most likely lean in to taste her lips. I stood there, feeling _helpless._ I watched the scene before me that was utterly horrid to my heart. Christine looked at the boy with brown eyes filled with love that pleaded to be loved back. She looked like a young girl staring at the boy she thought of every moment. She looked at _him_ with adoring eyes. _No. . ._She was supposed to look at _me_ like that! "Say you love me. . ." She sang quietly to him. I felt like my heart had been ripped out, and had been stomped on. "You know I do. . ." The boy sang back, causing her eyes to soften, and her lips to form into a lovely smile. Right then, I felt Clare tug on my arm desperately. "Phantom!" She whispered to me hastily. _"Please!"_ She begged again. I felt her trying to get me to look at her instead, but her strength was no match. Her weak attempt didn't budge me. My eyes didn't even flicker away for a moment, as I watched, feeling fearful, yet anxious to see if Christine would respond to the boy if he leaned into kiss her._ Is she willing to kiss him?_ I thought horrified, feeling my thoughts frantically flood into my mind, until I thought for sure that I would lose the little sanity that I did obtain.

"Love me, that's all I ask of you. . ." They sang together, before their eyes flickered down to each other lips. My breath hitched when I saw them leaning in closer, until the space between them was closed. As soon as I saw their lips touch, I turned away, unable to stand it any longer. Right then, my frantic mind suddenly ran blank. It was official. I was alone, and there was absolutely no words what so ever to even begin to describe what exactly I felt. I felt myself holding my own breath, and my heart thumped in my chest, aching helplessly, allowing the shell that was around my heart to protect me, fall apart. The shell had been broken through, and left completely vulnerable. Slowly, I felt my own thoughts painfully crawl back into my mind. And the thoughts were only so much to bear. My heart felt so heavy-but not just my heart, but my whole body. I tried to suppress my legs from giving away. I felt like falling to my knee's allowing sobs to rack through my body. Instead, I blindly looked back at the snow covered ground.

I wanted everything to leave at once. I felt like I wanted the entire world to disappear, so I could cry silently in the dark, alone where no one could bother me. I could hear Christine-who was no longer _my_ Christine, singing with the boy again. I could hear them, and they sounded so exhilarated. I dared no to listen for any longer, though. I desperately tried to drown their voices out. I didn't want to hear another word. It was obvious that he was pledging his love to her-and she was returning it! How could a boy manage to make Christine fall in love with him within a matter of days, while I spent _years_ slowly building a bond with Christine?

_You're such a fool!_ A voice spat in my mind all over again._ You're a fool to have thought that someone would have actually loved you. You were a fool to have watched them, when you knew that you're heart was going to be stepped on. You're a fool to still be here. _I knew it was all true. _Fool._ It was the word that ran restlessly through my mind. My own mind had found many ways to taunt me. Even when I closed my eyes, my mind found a way to cause an unbearable ache in my heart, by haunting my memory with them kissing. . .With their words haunting me.

I felt like the world closed around me, stopping the world, cutting off everyone's voices. But my world grew colder and darker, cutting off as much light as possible. The last _nine_ years crumbling right in front of me. Even falling apart in my own heart. It was all wasted. I should have known. . .

I was a fool to have even fallen in love.

. . .

**That's the end of this chapter!**

**Aww, poor Erik! **

**Sorry it took so long to get this up. I was really focusing on Erik's feelings for this chapter. I thought it was important to allow you guys to read through Erik's POV for this scene. Poor thing. . . Ya gotta love angst. So what's gonna happen? Is Clare gonna have to aid his heart again? What is she gonna do? How is Erik gonna react in the next chapter, with Clare around?**

**I feel so bad for Erik. Someone give him a hug! Oh, I know, for those who review, you get to give a hug to Erik-who, may I add, needs one really bad. . .Thank you for reading! Please review! Each one makes my day.**


	18. Cold

**Oh my gosh! I'm sorry it took me FOREVER to update! I've been really working on this chapter (Yes, even if it seems small), making sure to capture good description for Erik's thoughts and feelings. Hey, he's different than Clare, of course! So, I tried my best to put myself in his shoes. Also, when I'm writing my chapters, I actually write the chapter in a notebook I have, before typing it. I guess you could say that I have two copies of my story! Haha. . .But, it takes a little bit more time to actually hand write the chapter first. **

**Thank you all so SO much for all of your awesome reviews! **

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, or any of its music! I only own my OC.**

**Enjoy!**

**. . .**

**Erik's POV**

I hardly even realized that I was holding my breath. I reluctantly drew in a breath, and it felt as though my body quivered, as I desperately tried to keep myself together. The cold had nearly convinced me that that was the reason why my body trembled, although as the haunting image of Christine and the boy, restlessly seeped into my mind, and I was convinced otherwise. Even with my eyes closed, the scene pulsed through my head, until I thought for sure that my sanity was wearing thinner. I helplessly tried to drown out their voices. Their voices blended together into a mess in my own mind. I wasn't pulled away from the mental torture chamber until I felt a small hand gently touch my inner elbow. Through the black material that hid the scars along my arms and back, I could still feel how Clare's hands were noticeably cooler. The past times I had any contact with her at all, her temperature matched mine exactly.

The first time our hands touched, I was utterly dumbfounded that our temperatures matched exactly. But now feeling her hand, I was taken aback that hers managed to be colder than mine. _Perhaps it's because I am wearing gloves, and she is not._ I thought to myself. I then realized that Clare's hand was right over one of the scars that I sadly possessed along my arm that had more identical marks, all along my back. The only thing separating her icy hand, and the scar, was the thin black material that hid such unwanted features.

_Scars._ Why did I have to possess every possible scar? Physical _and _ emotional ones. It was awful, really. And I was reminded of it every morning, and every night. Although having to suffer through both, I decided that the physical scars were more tolerable in their own reluctant way. After all, I knew that I could cover my scars the best I could, but my emotional scars were much harder to hide.

I often found that anger or a quiet, withdrawn attitude was my most common mask worn to hide my fear or sorrow that I felt. I always quickly found myself reluctantly admitting to myself just how hurt I truly was to act such ways. But it was the only self sufficient mask, more than the dreadful material that was molded to fit my face, for the feature that caused all of my other scars. _It_ was the root of all my problems. . .I had been hurt by many people. This very night hurt the most-more so than usual. At first I wasn't entirely sure why, until I realized that it was because I was hurt by someone I loved. Someone I cared for. I would have much rather been hurt by someone I hated. But being hurt by someone I cared for, made me realize how deceiving the world truly was. Perhaps I couldn't trust _anyone._

Trying to reassure Clare's concerned state, I turned to look at her, finding her looking at me with her emerald green eyes. Her eyes had softened in a scared, or perhaps worried manner. She touched my arm as though helping a friend in need. _How could I know if Clare was trustworthy?_ I thought as I met her eyes. After all, I had originally thought that I could trust Christine, but I was proven wrong the moment Christine pulled off my mask. Even though Clare had pulled off my mask as well, she did the very thing that no one else had dared to-she looked at me as if looking at any face. . .And she was the first to share caring words, like no other. She was the first to hug me, and wipe away my tears. Clare was definitely extraordinary. But I quickly found myself admiring that characteristic of hers. Clare was a rare friend-one that I would always cherish.

Clare looked at me with her sorrow filled eyes, with great concern lingering as well. The look in her eyes quickly made me realize that she was feeling pity for me. I didn't want this. I didn't want anyone to feel bad for me at the moment. I merely wanted to be left be. I could feel tears stinging my eyes. I turned away from Clare, not wanting her to see me weak like this.

As soon as I pulled away from her small grip, I halted in mid-step upon seeing the small red rose lying in the snow. Right then, I truly felt my eyes burn. I could feel the tears that stung my eyes, threaten to slip. I tried to force them back. It was far too soon to feel this familiar burning sensation in my eyes, and the common feeling of a heavy heart. For so many years, I had grown almost used to an empty heart, but for all the years I had known Christine, I had felt something. Surely it had to be love. But now I sadly faced the dreadful pain in my heart. My heart wasn't quite empty now. No, now because of the new addition of pain, I felt all dark and sorrow filled emotions break apart, thrown into the air, only to scream at me, and echo in a never ending dark abyss in my heart. It felt as though the cries that came from my heart pounded in my head. I was nearly urged to scream to release the pain I felt. I wasn't sure if I wanted to scream because of the horrible grief, or because of how terribly deceived I felt. I dreaded that I would feel the familiar pain. All of my sad years-my lifeless years, had blended together into one. It was a d day that I didn't welcome. The years haunted me, until it knotted up tightly in my stomach, and the only way to escape was to force sleep to eventually fall upon me.

During then, I had always hoped that maybe I would find relief in sleep-hoping that perhaps, it would make the pain and suffering halt at least for a just a little while. Just enough to keep me sane. But alas, the nights were long, and restless, and the pain always managed to crawl into my dreams, that were supposed to be a pain reliever. It haunted me day and night.

I remembered that one day, I had suffered too much, and was desperate enough to take morphine. For once, I actually felt the pain fade, and I then found myself relying too much on it. After years, I eventually forced myself to stop, and I buried myself into music once again, desperately fighting the pain away, finding relief when I entered into my beautiful world of music. But whenever I was pulled away from my own world, I always felt the pain grip onto my heart, gnaw at the bottom of my stomach, and haunt my mind, until my eyes burned, and I grew sick from it. I would force myself to go to sleep. Helplessly hoping for a peaceful sleep that wouldn't fall upon me. I could feel all of these years rushing to the surface of my mind again, and I dreadfully felt the horrible pain being reawakened in my heart. It had been so many years since I felt _this_ pain, but it came far too soon. My stomach knotted, as though the years of pain and suffering said hello to me.

_Not this again._ I thought terrified. _Not this. Anything but this. . ._

I wanted to force a long slumber upon me. For that moment, I felt myself truly want to disappear. Feeling my heart ache horribly, I felt like I wanted to curl up on the cold ground and make my last attempt to protect my heart by wrapping my own arms around myself, while I could sink deep inside of myself, and release my pain that way. My own arms were the only ones that I believed that I would feel around myself for the rest of my lonely life.

My frame wasn't made to be hugged.

My eyes weren't made to fall in love with.

My hands weren't made to be held.

My lips weren't made to be kissed.

My ears weren't made to be told kind words.

My heart wasn't made to be loved back.

_No._ I thought bitterly.

My frame was made to be beaten.

My eyes were made to cry.

My hands were made to be empty.

My lips were made to quiver in unbearable pain.

My ears were made to hear horrified screams.

My heart was made to be broken.

My eyes ached. I wasn't sure if it was because of the tears I held back, or because of how emotionally and physically tired I felt. I did know one thing for sure though. I didn't want to crawl into a cold, empty bed, with only blankets to hug me.

I numbly walked to the rose that lied in the snow. The negative thoughts that my mind spat at me, greatly sickened my heart, and forced knots to twist in my stomach. The only way to stop it was to block the thoughts the best I could. As hard as it was to begin with, the rose only made it harder. Stopping in front of the rose, I carefully crouched down to pick up the lonely rose by the stem. I carefully pinched the stem in between my stiff fingers, faintly feeling the cold snow melt against the fingertips of my black leather gloves. Lifting the rose, I noticed that I couldn't suppress my hand from trembling, as the emotions, that I tried to black, fought against me. Slowly, I could feel them beginning to pour out once more. And it only allowed my own mind to taunt me again. I had never felt so foolish before. I had done so many things for Christine. And all for what? To have my heart stepped on? I should have known.

_Christine. . ._I thought sorrowfully.

_I gave you my music. Made your song take wing._

_And now, how you've repaid me. . .Denied me and betrayed me. . ._

I felt like my heart had been struck, as these words seeped from my heart, and ran through my mind. I closed my eyes, desperately trying to fight the tears that threatened to fall. I couldn't let Clare see me like this, but my heart and mind pushed the limit to the tears in my eyes.

_He was bound to love you, when he heard you sing. . ._

Right then, I truly felt my emotions break free, and take over me. I just couldn't help it any longer.

_Christine. . ._I thought lastly, before my mind grew silent, unable to say anything else. I could only feel. I felt my face twist in agony, failing to hold in my sorrow for any longer, reluctantly allowing unforgiving tears to seep out. I could feel my heart withering in my chest. Closing my eyes, I could see all of the years playing in my mind. All of the years. . .All for _nothing._ I could see myself helping the young girl calm her whenever I found her weeping. Yet, she would never help me if she ever found me in a similar state.

I could see her singing, with a precious smile, growing bigger, as she matured through the years. Her voice, so pure and beautiful, echoed in my ears, reminding me of every special year. Her smile ghosted across my mind. Whenever I saw her simile, her _happiness,_ I felt a wonderful sensation spark in my heart. I _wanted_ the blissful happiness that I recognized in her smile. I had thought that perhaps if I was around her enough, then maybe that wonderful sensation would make its way into my heart. Maybe, just maybe if she could have touched her lips against mine, then my happiness could have finally been sealed. Maybe if I could have held her in my arms, our hearts could have made a new home together. A new home. In our heart, and in our arms.

_But no. . ._My mind said, reawakening my thoughts. _No. All of those years were wasted. _I opened my eyes, with a pool of tears covering my vision. Through the tears that overwhelmed in my eyes, I still managed to see the rose still gripped in my hand. This was all I had of Christine. And this was something that _I_ gave her! But as sad as it was, it was all I had of her. Perhaps I thought this, because she held it in her very own hands. It was in her possession, before it came back into my own. _Oh, Christine. . ._I thought._ I loved you for nothing._

Just as my mind mourned, I also found it spitting awful things at me. _You were a fool to have even __**thought**__ that she would have loved you! Your past clearly proves why you have, and always will remain alone forever-Forever a recluse!_

Proving its point, my mind forced every terrible or unnerving memory to resurface in my mind. It merely forced more tears to my eyes. The memories of my past played across my mind, making me have to suppress a shiver. I wasn't sure if it would have been a shiver of disgust, or merely a shiver from the cold air. . .Perhaps even from the coldness I felt invading into my heart.

All of the scars. . .All the screams. . .All of the _laughing_ faces that taunted me! It played so vividly in my mind. It was still enough for me to want to shield myself, or coward away in fear of being harmed again. And yet, I was a child who merely wanted a loving mother, and an opportunity to live a normal life. An opportunity to dream of a wonderful life, like every child. But no. . .I was a child who was first opened up to a world of doubts. Because I knew deep down, that I would never live a normal, happy life. All because of my wretched face. It was awful enough to even ruin my chances of developing a bond with my mother. It was enough for my mother to look away from me. To cower away. And to eventually reject my hugs, and thunder at me for not covering my face. And even after breaking away from my mother, I was only reminded of the reason why the world chose to hate me. I was reminded that I was hardly human. Mainly just a horrific monster. All because of my appearance.

_Just give up._ My mind reminded me. It said the very same thing that it said all those years ago, when I had eventually escaped from the gypsies. _You're alive for nothing. You're just a lone soul that will wander for the rest of your wretched life. You're alive as a soul wasted, never to feel love, but merely hurt repeatedly. You're just the sacrifice._

I knew that there would never be a peaceful escape. Where ever I would choose to go, pain would follow. I would never get away from it. All of these years, I tried my best to hang on. But I could feel the world crashing down on me, tossing aside the little hope I had managed to hold. I could feel myself giving up, and giving in, allowing the pain to invade, no longer willing to even bother fighting it off. It was no use. I just had to accept it, like how I had tried before. Deep inside, I felt like I needed to feel a pair of arms to wrap around me-Not my own, but another's. Yet, at the same time, I felt like crawling away, not allowing anyone near, far too afraid to be hurt again. I wanted some type of comfort.

Bringing the rose close, I buried my nose into it, willing to allow myself to drown in its comforting scent. The scent of roses had always managed to sooth me, just like how music did. I deeply breathed in the scent, wanting to build new barriers around my world. I could feel my tears running uncontrollably. They ran down my face, and a few managed to leak down to my neck. Tears coated themselves onto the soft pedals of the rose. A lump had grown in my throat from the start I had heard Christine and the boy enter back into the building. I now helplessly tried to swallow the thick lump in my throat.

_Just end my agony._ I moaned on the inside. _If I lived to feel nothing but pain, then why didn't I just die the very day I was born? Just end my agony!_

Sobbing into the red rose, I suddenly felt a pair of think arms wrap around me. The wind brushed by, bringing long locks of auburn hair to lift up, and gracefully dance in the air, only to settle as the wind did, gently touching my arm. With Clare allowing herself so close to my figure, I faintly noticed a soft, soothing scent in her red hair. I knew then, that Clare truly was a precious, innocent soul to have wrapped me in an embrace once again. I felt her rest her cheek against my shoulder.

"Shh. . ." She hushed gently to me. "It's going to be okay. . ." She spoke softly. There was something about her sincere and gentle behavior that she used with me, that pulled something in my heart. She was being so kind to me-and I had _never_ had anyone act so nice to me before. . .She was the first to ever show kindness to me. Someone was actually willing to hold me, and share gentle words with me. The very fact of that, sent more tears to rush to my eyes. I felt myself breaking down all over again.

"Don't cry. Everything is going to be alright." She whispered to me, as she picked her head off from my shoulder. From the corner of my eyes, I saw her turn and look at me. Her red hair stood out against the dark sky, and the snow covered ground. Reaching up, she carefully placed her cold hand against the left side of my face. Her skin was soft, yet so cold. Her fingers ran down, until she gently touched my jaw. I couldn't help but to shiver against the unfamiliar touch. She gently turned my face, making me look at her. Looking at her, I was taken aback to see tears welled in her green eyes. There were so many emotions in her eyes, and her tears were on the verge of spilling over. "Everything is going to be alright." She repeated, willing to calm me. She gently brushed her fingers along my cheek, rubbing away the tears that took place. Every time Clare wiped away a tear, I felt another take its place.

With Clare's eyes looking deep into mine, and then wandering my face, looking for tear to brush away, I felt. . ._Exposed. _No one was ever suppose to look at me for so long. Other eyes often made me feel uncomfortable. I could only bear to meet another's eyes for so long. I averted my eyes to the snow covered ground after feeling her eyes focus on the tears on my face, feeling slightly uneasy. Although, I froze when familiar voices drifted through the air.

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. . .Say the word and I will follow you. . ." Both Christine and the boy sang together. I had thought that they had left long ago, but apparently they continued to linger not far from inside. The song felt as though it was _taunting_ me. Right then, if felt as though ice fold water ran through my veins. This was the first time that music _didn't_ sooth me. Now, it felt as though it deceived me. I felt anger quickly bubble inside my heart. _How dare you._ I whispered on the inside._ How dare you Christine! _I never should have trusted her. I could hear my own voice raise on the inside. _I could have given you the very same things that that boy could have! I could have given you __**more**__ than him! __**He's**__ just a complete fool!_ I could feel my teeth begin to grind together. _I was only a fool to have fallen in love._

My eyes drifted to the rose, suddenly feeling hatred towards it. I hated it because Christine left my rose-left _me_ behind. Rejecting me. Rejecting my feelings. Neglecting me, only to run away with that _boy._ I wrapped my fingers tightly around the pedals of the rose, wishing that it was Christine's heart, so that she could understand how it felt. I smothered the rose harshly in between my fingers, willing to destroy it completely. I couldn't decide whether I hated Christine, or the boy. I felt tears continue to leak from my eyes, realizing that I hated the boy. _Christine would have been mine if he hadn't appeared. It's all __**his**__ fault. __**He**__ ruined my chances with her!_

I hadn't even realized Clare's worried expression as I felt y breaths grow choppy and rapid. "Share each day with me, each night, each morning. . ." They sang together, before my mind screamed at them to stop, forcing their words to stop drifting into my ears at once. I blocked their voices the best I could. My attention snapped to Clare, when she touched my arm. "Ignore them," She practically begged. "Don't listen to them." Even through Clare's words, I felt myself shake in anger. Not able to take it any longer, I threw the rose-the rose that was now demolished-to the ground, and flew to my feet. I was so _angry_, yet so hurt all at once. I wanted to escape it all at once. Christine may have loved the fool, but I was determined to make her mine. I would find a way. I would make her learn-and understand. I would make her fall in love with me.

_You will curse the day you did not do, all that the Phantom asked of you!_

Clare leaped onto her own feet, and grabbed onto my arm. "Stop!" She shouted. I whirled around to look at her, utterly shocked by the sudden stern tone that came from her. I wasn't sure if I was shocked that I was commanded something, or shocked to see Clare-the small petite girl stand up like that. I pulled away from her grip, certainly not even wanting to be touched at the moment. I didn't want anyone here with me at the moment. I only wanted to scream in anger, or run as far as my legs could take me. Instead, I found myself beginning to pace back and forth in front of Clare.

"She. . .She doesn't love me." I found myself hissing. Clare's eyes followed me, carefully watching me as I paced. Her eyes were surprisingly hard. "She doesn't love me." I repeated, feeling all the pain sink to the very bottom of my heart. My own tone began to waver, as my eyes began to burn again. I felt my tears spill over. "_She doesn't love me!"_ I cried out, beginning to feel helpless. I tried to keep myself under control, but I couldn't-no matter how hard I fought. All the emotions ran through my heart restlessly, haunting my mind, until I could feel my own head throb. The thoughts practically rattled through my skull. My lip trembled, and I truly felt weak when Clare's eyes softened. I didn't understand why, but there was something about Clare's eyes that actually managed to make me weak. She looked at me with sad, yet caring eyes, and right then, I collapsed to my knees. Sobs racked through my body, and frantic tears ran down my face. I felt ashamed that Clare had to see me like this, but I couldn't stop the scene before us. I couldn't control the tears of pain that continued to rush to my eyes. Part of me told Clare to leave, and the other begged for help.

Before I knew it, Clare was next to me, draping my own cloak on my shoulders. She wrapped it tightly around me, willing to keep me warm. "I'm here. I'm not leaving." She spoke softly. Clare pulled me into a hug. "Shh. . .Don't cry. Everything is going to be alright. I promise. I'll help you through this." Clare whispered into my ear. I felt myself give into her embrace and kind words. Sobbing, I pulled her closer into my chest, wrapping my arms tightly around her. I sobbed into her hair, as she whispered reassuring words to me. I felt my own tears soak into her hair. I held onto her, fearing to let go. Fearing that if I loosened my grip on her as well, then she would disappear-disappear like how my old faint hope of happiness in life had withered away.

_Don't leave me too._ I thought as I held her close to my chest. I wanted to keep _some _happiness in my heart and I found myself desperately holding her close to where my heart was in my chest, hoping that some happiness would enter. I held her tightly in my arms, but I was careful not to crush her in my arms that were considered very large compared to her. She had such a tiny frame, that I was nearly convinced that my arms could wrap around her several times whole. I felt her wrap her own arms around me as well, and I recognized this as a hug. It was so odd to feel this. . .Rarely had anyone attempted to hug me. Sometimes the kind touch made me utterly freeze up, nearly uncomfortable by it. Although this time, it sent more tears to rush to my eyes. It managed to strike a nerve in my heart, making me weep uncontrollably. Why hadn't the world shown kindness to me before? Why did it have to torment me nonstop in my past?

I knew that Clare was trying everything she could to help me, but I felt like that nothing could save my heart at this point. The pain was so much to bear. It seemed like it would never go away-perhaps I would merely have to become immune to the pain. She had to understand that this wasn't just any loss. I didn't know Clare well enough to know if she truly understood loss. I wasn't sure which type she had ever experienced, but I was merely positive that hers was nothing compared to the pain I had felt my whole life. It was different than a loved one dying. At least then, you would have known that they loved you. But someone deciding that they didn't want you, was a whole different level of pain. It was the loss that I experienced the most in life. The only death in being rejected, belonged to the one who was found as a burden. I had lost count of how many times I had died on the inside. And I tried my best not to think about such things, for it quickly filled me with grief.

I wanted my pain to go away, but all of my years of nonstop pain, showed no sign of change. I wanted something to beat away the pain. I wanted to find comfort for once. I wanted to finally be able to breathe. All of this pain, made me feel like I could hardly breathe. I had been trying so hard to hold on all of these years, but I was giving in. What more could I do? I felt so exhausted from the pain. I wanted to close my eyes, and fall asleep, hoping for the pain to have simply been part of a nightmare, and nothing more. A nightmare to be brushed off when I woke up. My mind grew silent, finding nothing more so utter. It seemed as though there were no words to say. Nothing more to express my pain. _Almost _nothing more to say.

I held onto Clare, utterly silent, trying to hush my own sobs. I felt her rubbing my back in a soothing manner, willing to calm me. Carefully, and slowly, I felt Clare pull away from my arms. My arms felt so stiff. I wasn't sure if it was because of the cold, or because my arms were locked around her, not willing to let go just yet. But I reluctantly loosened my arms from her, allowing her to stand onto her own feet. Instead of standing at her own height, she crouched down to my level again, placing her gentle hand on my arm. I picked my eyes off from the ground, meeting her eyes. Her green eyes were glassy, filled with pity. I watched her swallow hard, as though trying to get rid of a lump in her throat.

"Let's get you inside," She said with a barely audible voice. "It's cold." I noticed that her voice wavered as she spoke. I knew that she was offering it, just to get me out of this place that would now forever haunt me. I could see it in her eyes, that she knew.

"It's always been cold." I whispered, finding my voice for once, hoarse.

_In my world._ I silently added inside.

. . .

**That's the end of this chapter!**

**I'm not very impressed with this chapter-I feel like it wasn't good enough, but I didn't want to keep you guys hanging any longer. **

**Also, if you guys noticed, the lines that Erik says in the movie, were just part of his thoughts in my chapter. It was my own odd twist of how powerful the scene was. It was as though he actually said it out loud, but he didn't. . .I know it probably doesn't make much sense. But basically, it's my own way of saying that when he was alone in the movie, what he said, was just part of his thoughts. I know, a little confusing, but oh well.**

**Aw, poor Erik! Poor, poor thing. I wanna give the guy a hug! *Sobs dramatically* **

**Well, that's what fanfic is for. But I hoped you guys liked reading in Erik's POV! So what's gonna happen next? Is Clare gonna find a way to heal Erik eventually? Is Erik gonna write Don Juan anyways? How is the rest of this story gonna progress, since Clare is still here? You'll find out in my next chapters! **

**Thanks for reading! Please review-each review makes my day! **


	19. The End of Heartache

**Hey guys! I'm back pretty early, huh? XD Haha, well, that's because I've decided to start updating every week! They're going to be shorter chapters though. It's basically that one chapter will be broken up into several. But, this way, I can continue updating on a regular basis, and not stress over finishing a chapter all at once. . .Besides, that takes me nearly a month to update, then! And no one likes late updates. Yes, I'm doing this because I love you all so much! Thank you for all the awesome reviews! They keep me going. :)**

**This chapter is named after The End of Heartache by Killswitch Engage. Now that I think of it, I should have named my last chapter this. :/ Oh well.**

**Oh, by the way, in my last chapter (in the author's note) I forgot to announce that 14 of you all got to give Erik a hug, for reviewing! Thanks guys!**

**Erik: *Stepping back nervously* What are you doing? Who said I wanted another hug?!**

**Me: Come here, Erik! We all want to give you a hug!**

**Erik: *Takes off, running for the hills***

**Well, I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, or its music. I only own my OC.**

**Enjoy!**

. . .

Erik was very reserved after the night on the roof top. I wasn't very surprised that he was, but it was something that I had dreaded. And it was everything that I feared it would be. He spent hours on end sitting at his organ-not that that was any different-but I felt that he avoided any contact from outside of his own music filled world. It was as though he stayed in his own little bubble. It almost felt like he didn't recognize anything that was merely three feet from his organ. . .Or perhaps he simply neglected anything beyond that point. In his own little comfort zone, I found either his fingers dancing across the keys on the organ, or his hand flying across the music notes, with a n ink pen in hand. It was the same routine all day, and every day. I knew that he was writing Don Juan.

Some days, I found myself fuming on the inside when he completely ignored me whenever I tried to talk to him. Yet at the same time, I found myself understanding the reason why I received many cold shoulders, since lack of communication from outside of his world, seemed to be his own way of mourning. But even then, it felt. . .A bit unhealthy.

_Hey, many people react the same way after such events-It's normal._ Part of me said. _But he's gotta get over it eventually._ Another part of me added in.

But even then, Erik had been alone for most of his life-he was used to it being quiet. I wasn't quite sure whether to try to invade into his world, or to simply leave him be to mourn. Instead, I found myself coming to him every day, attempting to try some type of communication. Every time that I found him silently rejecting the weak offer, I reluctantly backed off, allowing him to drown in his own music. I didn't want to irritate him, but I also didn't want to watch him drown in his own sea of insanity.

So instead, I was careful about approaching him, hesitantly. I would say a few things, and see what he would say. If he replied, then I would try to keep the small communication progress rolling. But the first week or so, I was lucky to receive a small glance from him. I remembered that the first week after his heart break, I would wake up in the morning, finding him out in the main room, sitting by his organ as always. I remembered greeting him, only to hear silence from him. But I knew he heard me when I watched how his fingers would hesitate against the keys, or how his hand paused on the paper, before resuming his work, completely ignoring me.

Sometimes I nearly scowled at him from behind his back when he ignored me. I knew that he just chose to not respond. Yet at the same time, I felt pity for him, because while he sat there, I felt so much depression that cascaded throughout the air with his music. He was heartbroken. He was hurt-and I could feel it radiating from all around his form.

His music the first week sounded eerie, or completely heartbreaking. He looked like a complete mess-never leaving the organ. I would reluctantly go to bed, hearing the sorrow music constantly echoing from the main room, until I eventually fell asleep. I recalled waking up in the middle of the night from time to time, still hearing sorrow filled notes emit from the organ. I truly felt worried for him then. Well, I had been worried from the beginning, but I felt my grief for him excel rapidly as time slowly passed. I did everything I could to try to help him-I really did try.

_I'm trying-I'm doing everything I can!_ I weak voice cried out inside of me. _He's just so hard to reach. . ._

But no matter how long it would take, I was determined to help him. To aid his heart. Even if it meant that I had to start all over. Someone had to save him. And it would take time. After all, whoever said it would be easy? I knew that everyone went through a challenge in life. Many had to overcome something from inside. Many had a secret-a great pain dealt with in life. And sometimes, they just needed someone to push them in the right direction. No matter how deep the abyss of pain and sorrow was, there was always a way out. It just took time and care. And I had never felt anything wrong about someone spending time to help lead the other from pain. After all, there must had been a reason why their paths had crossed. . .To end another's suffering. . .Like it was destined for them to meet, and save one another.

I did hate that Christine and Raoul made me have to start from scratch, though. Heck, I wanted to scream because it took a lot just to get as far as I had managed to get. But if I wanted to help Erik, I knew that I would just have to start over. I would always be there for Erik. Even if he didn't love me back. . .I just couldn't stand to see him suffer so much. Yet I found myself aching on the inside for both Erik, and my feelings for him, which I knew he didn't return. In a way, I was beating myself up. And I didn't just assume that he didn't think of me like that-I could feel it. I knew that he only looked at me as a friend, and nothing more. And that its self, killed me on the inside.

_"Erik." I called out. _

_He turned around, meeting my eyes. A breath taking smile spread across his face. It made butterflies dance in my stomach. "Cherie." He said, wrapping his arms around my waist. I felt my own lips pull into a smile. I felt a blush also break out across my cheeks as he looked at me. His beautiful topaz eyes felt so powerful. He made the whole room feel hot. I sheepishly averted my eyes, feeling my whole face turn red. A low chuckle came from his chest. Even small things like his chuckle managed to send butterflies to my stomach. _

_What's wrong with me? I thought to myself._

_Even when I didn't look at him in the eyes, I could feel his stare looking after me-tying to reach my own eyes. I felt him unravel one of his arms from around my waist. Bringing his hand up, I felt his long fingers slide across my jaw. The touch was unbelievably soft and bare. His fingers traced my jaw until they stopped from under my chin. He gently tipped my head back until our eyes met. "Cherie. . ." He whispered. His voice was so deep and smooth-his velvet voice made my legs feel weak. His touch made me want to either melt or shiver. His eyes forced me to hold my breath. And at the same time that his eyes made me shy and want to blush and turn away, his eyes also somehow managed to keep me together. I found myself wanting to drown in his eyes._

_I felt like I was brought back to everything when he leaned in closer to me. Heat radiated close to my face when he continued to lean in closer, closing his eyes as he did so. I feared that I would collapse without his eyes there to hold me in place, but I found that his touch was there to take over now to hold me instead. Even his breath that softly grazed my face kept me in place. But what truly held me, were his lips that brushed over mine._

My eyes snapped open, allowing the familiar details of the swan room fill my senses, bringing me back to reality. My heart was pounded in my rib cage, and when the organ music filled my ears, making me realize that it was merely a dream, I couldn't prevent a few curse words to escape from my lips. I had only muttered the words, but my mind screamed.

_Dammit! It was just a stupid effing dream!_ I raked my fingers through my hair, trying to keep myself together-to keep myself from running out into the main room, and pressing my lips onto his. Oh, how _taunting-_how _tempting_ it was. My mind spewed angry curses.

_What a cruel, cruel trick!_ I pulled my hands away from my tangled hair. Of course I had to wake up _just_ as it was getting good. I took several deep breaths-failing to keep it steady. Instead of running my fingers through my knotted hair, I rubbed my eyes, hoping that it would somehow pull myself together. I felt like perhaps Erik wasn't the only one here who was a complete mess. I knew that I couldn't think of Erik this way. I was supposed to get him and Christine together. And yet, I hadn't gotten any progress between the two since I had arrived.

_Great job._ My mind sneered at me. _You're doing a __**fantastic **__job._

I closed my eyes, ashamed, and slowly shook my head. _Now get a hold of yourself, Clare. You're not here to dream of Erik._

Though I felt ashamed of myself, I also knew that it wasn't my fault that I thought of him that way. I pressed my lips into a straight line, remembering how it felt in my dream to feel Erik's lips against mine. I had actually _felt_ it. And to my dismay, I woke up _right_ as Erik's lips touched mine. Though it only lasted half a second, it still made me feel butterflies in my stomach. The butterflies were strong enough to make my breath hitch in my throat.

How would I ever get over this feeling? I wasn't supposed to feel this. . .I had to force myself not to think of him so much-he was for Christine, and I was determined to bring them together. Even if it killed me inside. But my heart didn't matter in this love triangle. My feelings didn't count-they weren't important. Even if it made me feel sad and hallow inside. I just had to ignore it until it eventually faded. If it ever did. . .

I was pulled away from my thoughts when I realized that Erik was still out in the main room, playing the organ. I wasn't sure how long he had been playing-it seemed never ending. _Another three months of this._ I realized. I thought for sure that I would go insane by the time that the three months came around. I had to do something. I had promised that I would help him. _Why not start it again now?_ I thought._ Aid his heart._

The organ music sounded so haunting. It was as though Erik was trying to ask for help, but wasn't quite sure how to. I could hear his pain. The notes that echoed throughout the lair shook through the rooms, and I could _feel_ his pain through the melody. The notes were slow, and sorrow. Yet at the same time it seemed quiet, it still filled the lair with his mourning. The whole lair vibrated with the music that cascaded through this mind. It was so heart breaking that it made me fight tears. I couldn't stand it any longer-I had to help him.

Before I knew it, I had swung my legs off form the swan bed, and I had already reached the other side of the room, a second away from seeing Erik hunched over his organ. I stopped at the red curtain, my finger tips grazing the soft material. _Is this a good idea?_ I thought, as I nervously twisted the curtain between my fingers. _What if he gets mad?_ I closed my eyes, listening to his broken heart. _Well, whoever said that it would be easy? You have to help him one way or another._

Becoming determined, I pulled open the curtain before I could change my mind, hearing the notes ring through the room as I stepped in.

. . .

**That's the end of this chapter!**

**Yes, I know, it's short. But, like I said, I'm going to be updating more often-about every week. **

**Thanks guys! Please review!**


	20. Imaginary

**Guys, I'd like to do a small shout out that when I posted my last chapter, it took it HOURS for it to actually show up. So, for those who checked in, and didn't see an update, it would probably be best to read the last chatper to avoid confusion. Thank you.**

**My apologies for the late update. Wow, that was a bad start since I had planned to start updating every week. Well, I hate promising updates on a certain time, so, I'll just say this: I'll just update as quickly as possible. But, I still have a life, so sometimes there might be updates that will come a little later than others. **

**This chapter is named after Imaginary by Evanescence – I was listening to this song part of the time I was writing this.**

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, or its music. I do not own Imaginary – it belongs to Evanescence. You already know this - I only own my OC. **

**Enjoy!**

**. . .**

Erik was hunched over the organ, with his fingers slowly and gracefully dancing across the keys. He didn't sing. He merely played in silence, allowing the organ to sing for itself. I had a feeling that if he tried singing, nothing would come out. Perhaps a croak, but nothing else, due to lack of communication. I hadn't heard him utter a word since the night on the roof top. He seemed so dead.

I found myself almost scared to try to approach him. I actually felt timid and shy. _Don't be, Clare._ I told myself. _Don't be that scared girl that you used to be._ I felt similar emotions mix inside of me as the first morning I had spent with Erik. . .When I first _truly_ got to know him. It was similar to this moment, except at the time, it was morning, and he played the organ in a cherry, graceful manner. But now, it was either late night, or early morning. And now, I would be surprised if he was still alive inside. It was odd how these two events reflected from one another. Did nighttime just happen to unlock all grief filled emotions, as morning brought peace? Just like how people often symbolized that daytime was "good" or "safe", while night was "bad" or "dangerous"? Perhaps Erik was now brooding over his organ because nighttime had a key for unlocking our souls, pouring out our true emotions. For the first time ever, The Music of the Night actually made sense to me.

Everything seemed heightened during the nighttime. Sometimes I found myself wondering why we didn't always notice the same things during the daytime. Perhaps we were our true selves during the nighttime, and we were dead during the day. . .Or we were sensible during the day, and thought of nonsense during the night. At this point, I couldn't tell the difference between the two.

I had hardly realized that I had already reached the organ. It had been the deafening deep notes that rang from the organ, pounding against my ears that brought me from the daze I was driven into from my own thoughts. My eyes drifted to Erik's form that was faced away from me. His upper body was bowed over the organ, making him look engrossed in his own music. His white, bare fingers danced across the keys. I felt my eyes widen when I saw how incredibly fast his fingers moved. No doubt, he was definitely skilled. Right then, I realized that this was the first night that his music's pace had escalated. It was now noticeably swift. His fingers moved in a way I thought was impossible. His long fingers pressed down on the keys – none of the keys seemed too far from his reach, and he played it like the music simply flowed from him. It was such a beautiful melody. There were so many different keys that he pressed - the song sounded greatly structured, it sounded like it would be a difficult one to perform. I hadn't heard the song before, but I knew that he didn't press any incorrect keys, for it sounded absolutely perfect. He played it like it was easy – never missing a key.

Though his fingers moved hastily, it looked so graceful at the same time. It was so beautiful, but it tugged a string to my heart. . .It was so heart breaking. So depressing. The melody sounded frantic, as he poured out his emotions. If the organ could sob. . .This was it.

I had never heard anything so heartbreaking before. Usually sad songs were slow, and depressing. This one however, was frantic, and powerful. It was as strong as gravity.

Slowly walking closer to him, I felt the music burrow deep into my heart. It felt so hypnotizing – I felt like the music was pulling me in, ready to swallow me whole. His sorrowful emotions tangled tightly to the notes as they cascaded through the air. The notes made the whole lair vibrate, and the music echoed through the catacombs, bringing his creativity to life. Standing next to Erik, I stopped.

Deep down, I felt that if I merely leaned in any closer, that his music would swallow me, pulling me into his own sorrow world. The keys felt like the gates to his world. Perhaps if I touched a key, I would be pulled in. I wasn't sure of whether I was tempted to press a key, or aching to step away from the over whelming despair that radiated from the organ, and even Erik – Aching to get away, in fear of falling into Erik's sad dark world. The gravity to his world was unearthly powerful. I felt it make me stop and listen, almost feeling it pull me into a daze. The melody sounded like a frantic sobbing state, yet anger lingered in the deep toned notes. He wasn't just sad. He was hurt.

The notes moved through the air, and I felt it wrap tightly around my heart. Its iron fingers were locked, its grip never willing to loosen. The fingers weren't wicked and evil, but merely grasping onto the closest heart that was willing to listen, wanting to unravel its pain, and hope for comfort. Yes, it was begging for help through his music – even if he didn't know it. The music pounded in my ears, pulling me further in. I was nearly convinced that if I stepped any closer, I would drown in his music. In his sorrow. In his anger. In his despair. In his world.

Even though his music had brought me back from my own thoughts earlier, now I felt that his music could just as easily pull me in, and make me go under, and into the dark waves of his world. I felt myself actually feel alright with the idea of drifting in. But part of myself deep down brought me back to reality, pulling me away from the waves of his world before I could drown in it. I felt myself come out from the daze I had fallen in.

My eyes drifted to Erik again. I was standing next to him. My eyes wandered to his face, finding his eyes closed as he sunk deep into his own music. He was lost deep in his world as his fingers gracefully danced across the keys. I realized that with his eyes closed, he played the song straight from his heart – without any music sheets. This beautiful structured song flowed right out from his heart. Faintly, I noticed that he gently bobbed his head as he played. I wasn't sure if it was from lack of sleep, or if he was well lost in the music. It could have very well been both. But realizing that I was oblivious to him, I was convinced that he had just been pulled into his world, and not merely tired. Rarely did anything ever go unnoticed to Erik. But standing right here next to him, his music made me subtle. His music was so powerful, and I found myself closing my eyes, taking it in.

With my eyes closed, I felt the music wrap around me, bringing me closer to his world. Deep inside, I felt myself curiously drift closer, allowing the music to pull me in. I felt like I was lying across strong waves that rocked me back and forth. Standing next to the organ, the gravity felt stronger. Standing next to Erik, I felt as though he tightly grabbed onto my hand, before pulling me into his world. He guided me, making me sink in deeper, and drowned in his music. I found myself wanting to follow him deeper into his world. This would have been the only beautiful way to drown. Drowning always sounded scary, but also sad. But sinking deeper, it was somehow. . .Comforting. Sinking deeper in his world, I found it almost beautiful. It was so beautiful, yet so tragic. I had always thought that I knew Erik, but once after drowning in his music – in his _world_, I realized that I never had actually known him. Entering his world, everything made so much more sense. His emotions were clear. I understood what he felt. It made me want to cry. It was all so much.

I wanted to wrap my arms around him, and just cry. I wanted to cry for so many different reasons. I wanted to cry in pity for Erik, in his unfortunate life. I wanted to cry, now that I truly understood his pain. In his world, I could feel his pain, but I could also feel the things that had comfort him. Part of me wanted to cry for my old life, for I couldn't enter my old world that used to comfort me, anymore. I couldn't reach that world anymore. . .Now I was a stranger in a new world. . .One that seemed so much more beautiful than my own. Part of me wanted to cry that I didn't know about it sooner, yet, at the same time, I was going to miss my old life. Part of me would always be homesick for my old life, but at the moment, I was willing to get to know Erik's world. I felt like I was being caressed, deep in Erik's world, in his music filled world, caressed like how water does when you're several feet under. I felt my body growing heavy, yet I felt so comfortable. . .

Then it all changed.

My eyes snapped open. It felt as though the wonderful sensation of being caressed had fled, and I was spat right out from the water, allowing the cold air to invade and touch my wet skin. It was as though I was shoved away from his world. _Why?_ I thought, confused. To be honest, I had never felt so confused before. Questions poured into my mind when I was pulled away from the daze I had fallen in, and woken in reality. It was so odd. . .What _was_ that that I had experienced? It was the most extraordinary thing. I knew by then that it had to be a mind trick, but how was it if Erik was well absorbed in his own music? Surely, it had to be the music itself that had put me in a daze – not just Erik.

I turned my head, and was met with blood shot eyes.

**. . .**

**That's the end of this chapter! **

**I originally wrote more for this chapter, but I found that this was a good stopping point. xP**

**Hope you guys liked it!**

**Thank you for reading! Please review! **


	21. It's a Start

**Thank you so much for all of those who reviewed! Aw, I love you guys so much for that! **

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, or its music. I only own my OC.**

**Enjoy!**

. . .

I nearly leaped from my skin, and I somehow managed to suppress a squeak of horror that had gotten caught in my throat. I felt utterly unprepared to suddenly be face to face with the Opera Ghost. I wasn't sure if I had jumped because I had been caught standing there, or jumped from the sight of his red eyes. Don't get me wrong, it didn't have anything to do with Erik in general. It was just that after zoning out, only to be met with his gaze, was quite surprising.

I stumbled back slightly, and I instantly felt my cheeks burn when he looked at me warily. There was something about him that made him appear strong and superior, while I was the small and awkward one. I averted my eyes, allowing them to settle at my feet, as I tried to ignore my flushing cheeks. I felt the old and timid and shy image return, like as though my old self wanted to spend another day in my shoes again. I felt my heart thumped in my chest, feeling embarrassed. I thought for sure, that he could probably hear my frantic heart. That thought made my cheeks burn even more.

For the first time, in so many weeks, the lair was quiet. It quickly occurred to me that he actually wasn't playing the organ. That was the first. It nearly made my ears ring in the silence. It was odd to not see his long fingers pressing any keys. Even though I tried to push away my embarrassment by focusing my eyes on my feet, I could still feel his eyes. His eyes had always felt so powerful. I would be able to feel his eyes his mile away. I found that even his eyes were powerful like gravity –just like his music, how it tried to pull me in. It felt as though I could drown in his eyes as well. I could feel his stare focused on my stubborn eyes. I felt like I had to sneak a peek at him.

My eyes darted up to his, and my breath hitched in my throat to see his eyes already fixed on mine. Certainly, my eyes hadn't deceived me – the glimpse I had seen earlier was true – he did had blood shot eyes. I wasn't sure if his eyes were red from lack of sleep, or from crying – perhaps both. Studying him, I realized that his usual topaz blue eyes were now cobalt. It was actually very beautiful. I felt my own eyes soften when I realized that his eyes were glassy. Was it weary tears in his eyes, or heavy-hearted tears? His glassy eyes glinted as they flickered between both of mine. His eyes burrowed into mine – searching deep into my eyes. It was. . ._intense. _

I shuffled awkwardly on my feet, feeling sheepish under his gaze.

"You're awake." His sudden statement took me by surprise. I was taken aback that he had said something – it was the first time he spoke in weeks. His voice actually sounded raspy. It sounded so odd to my ears to hear a different voice from him. It must had shocked him as well, because he abruptly stopped, pausing to quietly clear his throat. "I'm not sure if you noticed, but it's still very late." He point out in a clear and low tone. His voice sounded more normal then – very deep and luscious. "Aren't you tired?" He questioned, keeping his tone very low.

I blinked a few times, wondering if it was real. Had Erik really decided to start talking again? "I-I. . ." I stammered. My weak voice sounded so pathetic to my own ears. Even I struggled just trying to communicate since we had hardly spoken in weeks.

"I could ask you the same thing. . .Aren't _you_ tired?" I questioned back.

Erik paused, as though to ponder over his answer as he took in my concern. I watched as he took a deep breath, and quietly released it through his nose. Turning away from me, he faced the organ once more, before carefully placing his long white bare fingers on the keys. As he turned, I noticed several tear trails on his face. A string to my heart was pulled. He had been crying. I could only imagine just how much he had been crying this whole time. I was tempted to reach out and allow my finger tips to brush away his tears. I felt my hand twitch slightly, trying to hold back the urge to rub away his tears. I was aching to touch his face.

At my side, I slowly tightened my hand into a fist, and then stretched out my fingers, constantly trying to resist the urge to rush to his side and caress his face into my hands, as dramatic as it sounded. I began to ponder whether he was even going to answer my question, or merely give me a cold shoulder once again. _At least I got him to talk. . .There's an improvement. _

I felt my heart sink, knowing that he wasn't willing to say anything else. Surrendering to the heavy feeling of defeat that weighed down on my shoulders, I slowly turned the other way, ready to sulk back to the swan room quietly. To be honest, I actually felt. . .Almost ashamed in myself. _You shouldn't have even tried, idiot. You just made yourself look like a fool._ I frowned sourly at the ground, practically scolding myself, as I mentally spat names at myself. My mind automatically listed all the reasons why I was os stupid. I then realized that I was mainly just embarrassed, more so than ashamed.

I had only taken a few steps when Erik's voice caught me. "Do not fret about me, Child." He muttered in a bitter tone. I stopped in my tracks once his low, distressed tone reached my ears. His tone was os quiet, that for a moment, I wondered if I had merely imagined it – perhaps it were merely notes from the organ.

Slowly, hesitantly, I turned slightly, looking over my shoulder until my eyes could reach his form. My eyes landed on a side profile of his form. His white mask faced my direction, casting dark shadows near the creases of his mask, where the candle light failed to reach. At the edges of where his mask stopped, his lips stuck out slightly. His lips looked so untouched. . .I found myself gawking at his lips far longer than planned. I shook my heard a little, flustered.

His fingers slowly and gracefully danced across the keys, allowing soft yet deep notes emit from the organ. My eyes drifted back to his. I felt my heart ache when I took in the details of his red eyes. His cobalt eyes were nearly deep enough to swallow me whole. His eyes were glassy and tinted red. . .His eyelashes looked wet. "How can I not?" I whispered. I barely even heard my own soft tone. I doubted that even he would have heard.

His fingers hesitated above the keys once I uttered the soft words. By the time his full attention was settled on me, I felt myself fidget nervously when he looked at me with wary eyes. . .Perhaps I hadn't been very clear. . .

"How can I _not_ be worried?" I asked carefully.

. . .

**Okay, I know this is short. Unfortunately I have to leave you guys with this. I don't have very much time at the moment, but I'll try to update again next week. I'm sorta in a rush at the moment – I hope I didn't make any stupid errors, but I'm sure there are some in there. :/ Sorry for leaving you guys hanging here!**

**Thank you for reading – please review! Each one means so much to me!**


	22. Animal I Have Become

**I want to thank those who have reviewed. Thank you guys! I also want to say a special thank you to mollyjr3 for her very nice review! Thank you, you're awesome! This chapter is named after Animal I Have Become by Three Days of Grace. . .The song reminds me of Erik very much. No offence to Erik, we all love him!**

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera or its music, or Animal I Have Become - that song belongs to Three Days of Grace. I only own my OC.**

**Enjoy!**

**. . .**

Erik looked at me for a very long time. He remained utterly silent. Several times he opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Finding nothing but silence flooding from his mouth, he closed his mouth and casted his eyes away, averting them away from mine. I was taken aback from his reaction. It wasn't typical to silence him.

"Like I said," He finally spoke up. "There's no need to fret about me." He tried to use a reassuring tone, but even his voice – his words, were a mask. There was no need for him to try to hide from me, but I knew that he wasn't willing to open up very much. He had always been so reserved – I couldn't help that. His past made it next to impossible for him to actually be comfortable to open up. Hell, he sometimes looked uncomfortable in his own skin. . .Let alone have him be _willing_ to talk to me about it.

Erik's cobalt eyes held so much grief that his soul looked weakened from the emotion. Looking into his tear-stained eyes, I could see the things that he loathed in himself surface in his eyes. I could almost see him listing the reasons why he hated himself. . . The reasons why no one else loved him. . .Listing the possibilities in life that never would have been offered to him.

They always did say that our eyes were the windows to our souls. Looking into Erik's eyes, I saw so much depression. He looked so dead inside. So hollow. Yet at the same time he looked hollow, I could also see his shattered dreams ghost across his eyes. I felt my eyes burn as my heart ached painfully in my chest. What had the world done to him?

I felt so awful for poor Erik. I wished a thousand times over that I could have prevented his pain, his hatred, and fears. . .If only I could have prevented his years of torment. I often found myself wishing that I could have been there when he was just a lonely child. I wished that I could have held him in my arms when his own mother didn't. I wished that I could have saved him from the people who beat him in the fair. I wouldn't have allowed anything to hurt him. I would've shield him away from the things that threatened pain and suffering for him. I would've given anything to help him. But now was my time to help him.

His words ghosted across my mind.

_Like I said, there's no need to fret about me. . ._

Turning, he hunched his form over the organ, proceeding to continue. I wrapped my tiny arms around his frame. Usually he would hesitantly return my hugs, but he remained tense this time. I tightened my arms around him in an endearing embraced, but still received nothing. I then truly felt awful, realizing just how hurt he really was on the inside. I hopelessly tried to swallow a lump in my throat. I rested my cheek against his shoulder, feeling my forehead graze his skin slightly. "Yes there is. . ." I whispered in a thick voice. Before I could say or do anything else, Erik spoke when I least expected it.

"No there's not." He said in a harsher tone. I was taken aback from his sudden change of tone. I carefully removed my arms, easing away from him silently. Even though he sounded angry, I didn't fail to miss how his voice wavered – struggling to remain steady. His trembling voice gave away the tears that I couldn't see just eyes. He sounded so distressed even though he tried hard to cover it up with anger. It was his true mask. And it was a mask that I had never been too fond of.

**Erik's POV:**

Usually, Clare's kind contacts were comforting to me, unlike anyone else's, but at the moment, I did not want to be touched at all. I didn't even want to hear kind words. I just wanted to be left be. _Leave me alone! Leave me alone to rot in pity like I deserve! You don't deserve to see me in a mess – Nor do I __**wish**__ you to!_ My mind screamed.

I could feel anger bubbling quickly in my veins, and I couldn't even tolerate any contact – whether it was Clare or not – to the point that I felt like I was on the verge of pushing her away, or thundering at her for it. The anger was all too familiar. The savage anger that pumped in my veins was ugly – I knew it was. I knew just how revolting it truly was, but it was hard to control. Even _I_ despised the hideous rage that came without much warning. But my anger was the most awful animal to tame.

I couldn't argue with the people who hated me – I was a monster. I had a hotter temper in the past, believe it or not, but it still remained awful. In the past, my anger was next to impossible to control. It was an utterly repulsive temper that would spew out in pure blindness. I still struggled to fight the monster inside of me. Clare was right. It really was my anger that was the monster. But if Clare knew this, then why did she decide to stay?

_You stupid Child!_ My mind hissed. Even though the anger rushed through my veins uncontrollably, I couldn't help but to feel sick at the harsh curses that spurted through my mind. I knew that if Clare had heard the things that my mind screeched, it would make her stumble away from me in fear. I could see it then. I could just about see her looking up at me from under her eye lashes, looking at me with big, worried yet fearful green eyes. With an unnerving silence, I could just see her taking hesitant steps away from me, carefully retreating.

If my anger didn't manage to get the best of me, I probably would have let her flee. I wouldn't have stopped her. The poor child would have deserved to live in fear. I had already stopped her once. But if she decided to leave again, I would merely step aside reluctantly, and watch her run away. . .Even if it caused me pain. But it would have brought more pain to watch her suffer, trapped here with me. But this thought made a question linger in my mind.

_If it was Christine who was here, would I have allowed her to run?_

I honestly wasn't sure. After all, Christine was not Clare. I needed Christine to fall in love with me. Even if it meant that she had to learn how to. I didn't think that I could actually manage to step aside and watch Christine run. Clare however, was different. She  
was an innocent child who simply didn't deserve it – she wasn't part of Christine and I. Pulling her into this problem would be utterly selfish. The poor child didn't deserve it. And at a time like this, I wanted to yell at Clare to run away now before she regretted it. She simply didn't know what she was getting herself into.

I tried to ignore the burning sensation in my eyes, but my tears made me fail to miss it. I desperately tried to swallow the thick lump in my throat, and felt helpless when it remained. I knew what Clare was trying to do. She was trying to comfort me. I should have been accepting her kindness, but I just couldn't at that moment. Frankly, I didn't even want to be touched. I didn't _want_ to hear comforting words at that moment. I didn't _deserve_ to hear something like that. I didn't deserve to be told that everything would be alright, when it wouldn't. I only wanted to mourn. I wanted to be left alone so that I could get my sorrow and anger out. But when Clare hugged me, it only reawakened my pain.

Her tenderness opened up my heart, making all of my bottled up pain flood out, threatening to make me break down all over again. By then, I realized that it would be impossible to keep anything from her.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to weep over the fact that someone cared like her, or weep because of the horrible pain that resurfaced in my heart at the memory of that night on the roof top. Her tenderness, knowing of what pain it was I felt, made me remember all the reasons why I broke down that night.

_Why Clare? Why did you have to try and comfort me? I do not need anyone to feel bad for me! I do not need you to see me weak. . ._

_. . ._

**Alright, that's the end of this chapter!**

**So what's gonna happen next? Is Clare gonna heal him, or just irritate him even more? Sometimes guys need a little bit of space, but sometimes, guys need help. So what's gonna happen? You'll find out in the next chapter!**

**Thanks for reading! And please review! I haven't been seeing as many reviews lately. . .So please guys, let me hear what you think of the chapter! Each review makes my day – they make me light up. Of course, no one wants a flame, but any other review I will gladly accept. **

**Do not flame, or The Phantom will Punjab you. Ya gotta love Erik for that. X)**


	23. You Are Not Alone

**Okay, I'd like to say thank you to those who have been reviewing! Thank you, love you guys so much for your awesome reviews! But for those who aren't, don't be shy! I would love to read your reviews, so please, please, PLEASE review! They mean a lot to me! Ya know, as long as they're not flames. Cause if they are, the Phantom will Punjab you. It's as simple as that. X)**

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera or its music. I only own my OC.**

**Enjoy!**

. . .

My pain felt exposed. Clare was very well aware of what happened that night, and I did not need her to remind me of it. But it was impossible to avoid it when she tried to comfort me. That only made things worse. It only threatened tears to spill over once more. It threatened to expose my pain. I didn't want to be exposed in front of her like this. It made me look completely weak in front of her. She did not need to see The Phantom weep like so!

"Child, why won't you believe me when I say that I'm alright?" I tried to sound harsh, but my voice trembled, revealing my true pain. I felt Clare pull away from the embrace when I tried to snap, hoping that it would make her leave. But instead, I sounded merely hurt, suffering from a heart break. Which I was, but I knew that my anger probably lingered somewhere in my trembling voice.

"Because you're _not._" Clare argued back, sounding slightly mislead from what I had said. I clenched my jaw, trying to control my temper. _Don't be so damn stubborn, Child._ My mind growled. I wanted to argue back, but I feared of two possibilities that threatened if I did. I feared that if I even opened my mouth to speak, only a sob would come out. But if I managed to keep myself together, then it would be my temper that would bubble over if I decided to argue with her. Either way, it was irrelevant - both Clare and I knew that I wasn't alright. A long painful silence dawned over us.

I racked my brain for something to play, to break the silence. I allowed my fingers to press the keys once more, hoping that it would make the horrible unnerving vibe wash away. My fingers pressed the first keys that could be grasped, and before I knew it, Don Juan Triumphant's melody ran through the lair. I was a little shocked that these were the first notes to be emitted from the organ, but I continued anyways. I closed my eyes, as I sank into my own music. I wanted to be lead away from reality and taken to my own world. Don Juan Triumphant wasn't complete yet. I knew that it still had very much work ahead before I could be satisfied with it. I thought for sure that I had sunken deep enough to be oblivious to the outside world until a soft touch crept onto my shoulder.

The touch was enough for my eyes to snap open, and I felt my fingers slip, missing several keys, and press incorrect keys. I cringed slightly when I heard the unfamiliar notes in the melody ring through the lair, forcing the song to screech to a halt. As soon as the shrieking notes were emitted from the organ, the touch fled from my shoulder. My attention snapped to Clare next to me, who staggered back a little. Her green eyes flew up to mine, glancing at me for only a second before her eyes flickered back down to her feet nervously. It wasn't long before a blush settled on her cheeks as she avoided my gaze. My anger quickly subsided as I watched her fidget sheepishly. I wasn't sure if I found it amusing or. . ._Cute._

"I-I'm sorry. . ." She stammered shyly. "I didn't mean to interrupt you – I-I just wanted to make sure that you were alright – because I. . .I don't want to see you upset –I-I'm. . .I'm sorry, you can continued." She squeaked timidly. By the time she finished rambling, her cheeks were almost as red as her hair. Why was she blushing so much? My goodness, I had never seen her look so shy before. I was taken aback by her sudden shyness, but I couldn't help but to feel a smile tug at my lips. "Don't be sorry, Child. There is nothing to be sorry about." She met my eyes with astonished green eyes upon hearing my calmer tone. "In fact. . ." I said, feeling shame creep onto my face.

"_I_ should be the one apologizing." I admitted. "I know Clare, that you were only trying to help me. I'm sorry for being harsh." As I said this, Clare shook her head. "Oh no, don't be. It wasn't any of my business to intrude like that anyways." She said softly. I instantly felt a stab of regret. _I never should have been so harsh. And now I'm paying the price._ Her very familiar words twisted uneasily in my heart and stomach. It reminded me of another very painful night. It was a night that I wished that I could simply turn the other way, and forget it, but I knew that the damage was done. It would bother me to my dying day.

"_No." I growled at her. "Why must you intrude?" I snapped harshly at her. I watched as pain quickly became visible in her large green eyes. Part of me almost felt regretful for what I just said, but I pushed it away. "I-I'm sorry. I-I didn't want to intrude. But y-you seemed s-so sad." She stuttered nervously. Her eyes looked up into mine, fearfully. She looked so innocent yet so gullible. It made her look unsure of what her actions truly caused, because she was merely an innocent soul, unknown to how reality truly was._

The memory quickly morphed to another that merely took place from that night as well. I wished that it would disappear , but I knew it couldn't.

_I watched as she turned around, facing the lake. Her long red hair swayed as she turned her head, allowing her eyes to wander the lair, as though searching for something. I felt an un-expecting pain jolt in my heart as I realized that she was looking for a way out. "Mademoiselle-" I tried begging to the girl before her voice interrupted mine. "Please, forgive me for being such a burden. . ." And her long red curls bounced as she took off running – running far from here._

Pulling away from the memories, I focused my eyes back to Clare's. The memory made me want to cringe because it harshly reminded me of what Clare had just said. I wondered if she always thought that she was a burden. I wasn't sure if her previous life had caused her to believe so, or if that was part of my doing. Perhaps it was all my fault for making her believe that she was a burden. This thought made my stomach knot uncomfortably. I never should have acted like that. I knew that I would regret it for the rest of my life. Clare was everything but a burden or intruder. Seeing her apologize was the last thing I wanted.

"You weren't intruding. You were just trying to help. . .Don't apologize for being a caring, warm hearted soul." I said softly. I certainly wasn't used to saying something nice to another. It almost felt. . .Awkward? It had always felt unfamiliar to show such kindness, but this felt different. I just couldn't quite place it. . .I tried to brush off the odd feeling and gently pressed a few keys on the organ.

The organ emitted a couple deep notes while my fingers hesitated, unsure what to play. I didn't bother to glance back to see her reaction to my comment. I merely tried to resume playing the organ. To my dismay, I found it hard to continue – I wasn't sure what to play. . .Why was it so hard to continue? _Am I losing my muse?_ I thought horrified. I couldn't possibly lose my inspiration. I had to continue!

I could feel Clare's presence lingering behind me – I could feel her eyes following how my fingers slowly danced along the keys, until they hesitated, and stopped completely. "Clare. . ." I sighed, feeling my shoulders drop weakly. "I-I do not need you to see me like this. . ." I whispered. I tried to say it as gently, and steady as I could, but I could feel my voice threatening to tremble. As I said this, I could feel a lump beginning to form in my throat. _Keep yourself together._ I told myself. _She doesn't need to see you break down again._ I could feel tears beginning to sting my eyes once more. I desperately fought them back as I also struggled to swallow the lump in my throat. Why was it when I was with Clare, I felt like I could easily break down? She made me so weak and vulnerable, yet, somehow strong afterwards. I couldn't' truly get my head wrapped around it. "It's alright," Clare said tenderly, which quickly caught me off guard. "We all go through hard times. There's nothing to be ashamed of. We all have feelings. . ." She said in a caring and tender tone. Her words felt as though they jabbed my heart, catching my full attention.

There was something about what she said. . .It made me listen carefully, taking in each word. . .Taking them in deep, feeling it somehow change my heart. Everything else around me froze, as I listened to each word she said. It felt as though the next thing that I was waiting for her to say was now the gravity of my world. I had to know the meaning to her words. I listened intently.

"We all feel emotions. . ." She started, sounding innocent. "Don't be embarrassed if you cry. I understand. We all have to shed tears at times. It's part of being human." Part of me laughed mockingly as she said this. No one ever looked at me as being human. . .Yet at the same time, part of me felt like crying all over again. "And I know that tears make us look weak, but tears are just our body's way of expressing pain, when words can't." I remained utterly silent, even when she paused, appearing to wait to hear a response from me. I honestly couldn't find anything to say. I continued to remain silent, waiting for her to continue. When she did, I held my breath, not even wanting my own breaths to fracture her words from my ears. I feared that if I even breathed, I would miss something important.

"You have seen me at my weakest form, and you helped me then. It's my turn to help you. . ." She spoke softly. "I. . .I know that the world has been awful to you. And I'm so sorry that I couldn't have been there to have saved you right then and there from the damage. I'm so sorry that you were alone. . ." As she spoke, I could feel a sob beginning to build up deep inside me with each word she said. Where was she going with this? She didn't have to say any of this – she was just wasting her breath. I wanted to beg her to stop right then, but I feared that if I even opened my mouth, I would break down. My eyes burned as I felt tears beginning to build up. My mind kept telling myself to hold them back, telling me not to make a fool of myself.

"But you have to forget about the past. Everyone who hurt you in the past aren't part of your life anymore. Think about _now_. There are still people who care about you." She paused again, only receiving a long silence from me. I couldn't believe what touching things that my ears heard. They were things I used to wish to hear. I used to ache to hear something comforting like this. I could still remember the haunting pain of always being alone. I could remember the cold, hollow pain that never seemed to end. Always to haunt me until my dying day. But now, I was finally getting the comfort my soul begged and ached for. Just realizing that made me struggle to swallow the lump in my throat. I knew that if Clare didn't leave soon, she would see me collapse into a fit of tears. The silence seemed to answer whatever it was that Clare expected to hear. "I. . .I understand if you don't want to talk about it. But just know that if you ever need to talk, I'm here." She said quietly. I could feel tears brimming in my eyes. Every passing minute, I found it harder and harder to swallow the lump in my throat. I wished that I was able to appreciate her kindness more, but I was anxious for her to leave before she would see me cry. I swallowed hard, desperate to get rid of the lump before I would even dear to speak. I did everything I could to force my tears back.

"I-I'm sorry, Clare. I really do appreciate what you're trying to say, b-but I don't wish to talk right at this moment. Please understand that I would like to be left alone right now." I barely managed to say. Though I fought to stay strong, my strength obviously withered when my tone noticeably wavered as I spoke. The keys of the organ swam in my eyes as tears blurred my vision. "I understand." Clare said softly. I couldn't find the strength to say anything else. I felt like I was choking on the thick lump in my throat, as I hopelessly tried to swallow it. I should have given up by then. I felt like I would never be able to hold back the sob that continued to build deep inside of me. A million things ran through my mind as I felt a tear slip from my eyes, and run down my bare cheek. Luckily, I knew that she couldn't see it since I was mainly face away from her. If she saw anything, it was only the side of my mask.

I froze when I felt Clare wrap her small arms around me. Clare was always full of hugs and comfort, wasn't she? She held me in the embrace for a while, whether she expected me to hug her back or not. "You don't have to be alone. . ." She whispered in my ear.

Before anything else could be said, I felt a small amount of pressure added to the cheek bone part of my mask. I couldn't figure out what had happened until she pulled away and I heard a faint sound of a smack of her lips, and it occurred to me that she had kissed me. As she pulled away, she loosened her arms from me. As I heard her walk away, I raised my hand until my fingers softly touched the spot she had kissed on my mask. _She kissed me._ I thought, utterly baffled. If she had kissed my flesh and not my mask, I knew that I would have surely broken down right then.

_What did she mean by all of this?_

A million thoughts and a million emotions raced through my mind. A sob built up rapidly as I hear her footsteps fade into the swan room. My tears were seeping over by now, and I found myself surrendering to all of my pain that had welled up this whole time. When I was certain that she couldn't see or hear me, I gave in, and broke down completely.

. . .

**Okay, that's the end of this chapter!**

**Aww, poor Erik! And Clare kissed Erik's cheek! If you guys have read the Phantom of the Opera novels, I'm sure that you understand just how much this means to Erik. *Gives Erik a hug* Poor Erik! So what's gonna happen next? Is Erik beginning to feel something for Clare? You'll find out soon!**

**In my notebook, I finally reached over 300 pages! Woo-hoo! I've never written so much before, so I'm really proud of this story. *Beaming***

**Thank you for reading! And please guys, I'd really like to see some more reviews! PLEASE review! Share with me what you think of the story. Don't be shy! I'm writing to hear your thoughts on it! Those who review get to give Erik a hug! He needs to cry on someone's shoulder. **


	24. Memories

**Erik received 11 hugs from my fellow reviewers! Thank you guys! A special thanks goes to ****Megla**** for their nice review – thank you!**

**Erik: Why are these women hugging me?**

**Me: Because they love you.**

**Erik: I don't like this physical contact. O.o**

**Me: I'm sure they do. X)**

**This chapter is named after ****_Memories by Within Temptations_**

**Well, I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, or Memories by Within Temptations. I only own my O.C.**

**Enjoy!**

. . .

_ I stared down at my phone feeling my eyes soften as I looked down at the battery left in my phone. My phone showed that I had two bars left. My cell phone always had a good battery - it would often take nearly a week before I would have to charge it again. I was surprised that it had managed to work, but I made sure to keep my phone turned off almost all the time, to keep my battery at least for a little while longer. But even if I had my phone turned off most of the time, I knew that my battery would drain eventually. It would only take a matter of days. I hadn't been here for even a week yet. And within only a couple of days, I had already told Erik where I was truly from. _

_I stared at the date and time on my phone. It was all the same. . .It had never changed since I had time traveled. It was the same date of the. . .__**Incident**__. The day that that man – that __**crazy **__man kidnapped me, only to end up driving into a lake! It was all the same date. . .Even the same time. . ._

_His arms were locked  
around my trembling form after I broke down telling him where I was from. "Shh, don't cry, Clare." He cooed softly to me. "Everything is going to be alright. Now dry your tears. . .Everything is going to be alright." He kept repeating the same words to me until I could actually managed to hold a normal, understandable tone. I held up my phone that was feverishly clutched in my hands. I pressed the buttons on my phone that pulled up the pictures stored in it. I searched through all of my pictures, seeking out each family and friends pictures. I felt my stomach and heart ache when I realized how much I missed them, and realizing that I would never see them again. I knew that once the battery was drained, I would never be able to see those familiar faces again. I would merely have to go by memory, but I feared that I would somehow forget the little details of them. I feared that one day their faces would fade away from my mind._

_Through my tears, I showed Erik my loved ones. It felt so weird to show him all the people I loved, and the people who loved me, since Erik couldn't relate with the feeling. He knew what it was like to love, but he especially knew what it was like to lose. It made me feel so awful to show him all of my loved ones, but I felt that we could now relate with the feeling of loss. I was aching for some type of comfort. I wanted to release my pain. In this way, I felt that I could relate with him. Perhaps he would understand._

_Before, I had my best friends, and my family who were there to comfort me if I needed it. But now that they weren't here, I felt so alone. It was so horrible to know that I wouldn't see them again. It caused an unbearable pain in my heart that also made my stomach knot up. I felt like even tears couldn't express the pain enough. I felt as though I would cry until a restless sleep passed over me. Perhaps I would cry until my body physically couldn't take it. It felt as though the world was closing around me, my old life falling apart from all around me. The only thing left was me, and nothing else. I had never felt so alone deep down before. It seemed as though even if I screamed and shouted, no one would hear me. Even if I apologized a thousand times over that I would never see them again, I felt as though they would never hear nor even feel my message. They would never know why I was gone. They would expect the worst. And that it's self, tore me apart. I wanted them to know that I was alright, but they would never hear it from me._

_I wanted to cry on Erik that whole night. For now on, he would be the one who would be stuck having to offer his shoulder for me to burry my eyes into and release tears. As awful as it made me feel to cry against him, he didn't seem to be opposed by it. It made me feel like a complete baby to blubber against him for what seemed like forever, but he didn't draw away from me. I was surprised to find him offering comfort to me. He held me, and whispered reassuring words to me that whole night until I had finally stopped. I had actually cried until I collapsed, and practically cried myself to sleep. It wasn't until then, I found peace that night. It was enough time to allow my exhausted body to catch up on sleep after spending hours of brooding over my life that was now gone. _

_It had to be the lowest point I had reached in my life to be honest. It was utterly horrible to have life change so dramatically – all without any warning, and it was all after the traumatic accident. Throughout all the years, I still couldn't piece together whether I had died in that accident, or not. It sometimes kept me awake at night, wondering what the truth was behind it. It made me wonder if any of this was real. Perhaps I was dead. Perhaps I was still alive, but had to be revived. But through all of the questions that always lingered in the back of my mind, I also couldn't help but to have the idea of home linger as well. It made me wonder. . .What was going on at home? _

_. . ._

I slowly opened my eyes, recalling the memory of when my phone was still working. Only a month ago, I had been looking down at my phone which only had two bars at the time, but now I looked down at a black screen. I felt my stomach twist, knowing that I wouldn't see my family and friends faces again. I would merely have to go by memory now, which would eventually be altered slightly as the years went by, since my memory wouldn't remain crystal clear all of my life.

The future was so awfully spoiled. The average teenager seemed to depend too much on their cell phones, just to text their friends. I could even recall how naked I felt if I didn't have my cell phone with me constantly. It seemed as though the center of the teen's life was their cell phone. I shook my head realizing how spoiled we all were. But at the same time, it was a nifty device. After all, it could call others from long distances, or dial 911 when there was an emergency. Plus, a cell phone was like a time capsule. It contained names and pictures of my family and friends. It had sounded so silly to fret over my phone, but I knew that it was the closest thing I had of home. Not just the cell phone itself, but the pictures. . .The pictures that were now gone. . .That itself had made me cry the very day it wouldn't turn on. It was the loneliest time for me, especially since I went through it by myself when Erik was still in his depression. I remembered that the day my phone had finally died, I cried over it while I heard Erik playing his horribly sad organ music in the other room. . .It had only been days after Christine broke his heart.

I never told Erik about my phone dying that day because I didn't want him to worry. . .Plus, the very day it happened, it was still early on in Erik's depression that even if I had said anything, I would have been lucky to earn a glance from him. I decided to stay quiet about it instead so that I wouldn't draw any pitiful feelings from him. I was on my own. And that was when I reached my lowest point. It was an awful feeling really. . .Knowing that no one was there to comfort you when you had your life crashing all around you. Of course, that was the time that I needed my family the very most.

I continued to stare down at my phone that would never turn on. I felt my eyes burn. _Don't cry, Clare._ I told myself._ You're family wouldn't have wanted to see you like this._ I knew that was true. It was my way of trying to comfort myself, but it still tugged a string to my heart, and unlocked the anguish feelings I felt deep down. I knew that a part of me deep down would always yearn to hug my family and cry, telling them all that I loved them so much. My homesickness would always linger.

I had tried to hold onto the life that was left over on my phone for as long as possible, but I knew that it wouldn't last forever. And that was proven to me nearly a month ago. I had been trying to hold on this whole time – trying to save the battery as much as possible, because I was afraid to let go of my old life. But was it just causing me even more pain? Was it just time to set it aside and move on? That thought made my stomach knot up tightly. I wanted to let go of my pain, but I didn't want to let go of home.

"What are you _wearing_?" I nearly dropped my phone in fright when Erik's voice came from nowhere. My eyes flew up to meet Erik's form that stood in the doorway, and I could now clearly see the curtain swaying from his movement that had gone unnoticed to me a moment ago. His blue eyes studied my 21 century clothing that I wore – the average black jeans, T-shirt and vans. I felt so much more comfortable in my old clothes, that I couldn't resist ignoring them. I had to at least wear them this one time. It was almost. . .Soothing to me. It made me feel as though home was hugging me. . .As odd as it sounded.

Erik's eyes studied my clothing which made my cheeks burn fiercely. Although I noticed that he didn't look at me in a flirty way, but in a very disapproving way. He actually looked horrified or utterly disgusted. "You're wearing those infernal clothing again?" He provoked. I looked down at myself, knowing that it probably looked ridiculous to him, yet it was perfectly normal to me since everyone from my time had grown up like this.

"Yes." I responded stubbornly. "Everyone from my time dresses like this." I simply said. I decided to give him a hard time by innocently rocking back and forth on my heels, with my hands folded behind my back in a polite manner. I slowly looked up at him from under my lashes and felt a smirk quickly spread across my face as I fluttered my eyelashes at him. I really felt like laughing when Erik looked at me baffled by my playful manner that he couldn't wrap his head around. After a moment, he dismissed my teasing with a small shake of his head before ranting again. "Well this isn't _your_ time," He argued. "You simply can't dress like that." I looked back down at my clothes. It was funny how much of a disgrace it was now. Anyways, what else was I supposed to wear? It wasn't like anyone else was seeing me like this anyways – why did it matter then?

"Why?" I questioned. "It's not like people are going to accuse me as being a witch. . .People don't believe in that anymore." I explained as I sat back down on the edge of the swan bed. With my hand that wasn't holding my cell phone, I gently swiped my hand across the red material of the swan bed. I practically considered this to be my room.

. . .

_In the beginning, I had always felt awful for taking the swan bed, for I thought he had nowhere else to sleep. Although I was proven wrong several weeks ago when I convinced him to sleep after who knows how long he had been awake. After his heartbreak, I could have sworn that he was up for a week straight without any rest. _

_I felt so awful to leave him be the night I had kissed his cheek. I wanted to have stayed with him longer, but I knew that he also wanted to be left alone. I respected that. Although the night I found him passed out at the organ, I had to force him to go to bed. I couldn't bear the fact that he spent a week at the organ without any rest until his body collapsed. Considering how unhealthy it was, I was baffled that he was still alive. That night I had to help him walk to his room. . .Yes, __**his**__ room, not the swan room. It was odd to be in his room, but I was relieved to know that he had a bed of his own. _

_Part of me asked why he hadn't used it this whole time. After a heart-break, some people would never leave the comfort of their bed. For sleep often seemed to be the only escape from pain. . .But for others, it was drinking, or trying to avoid crawling into a cold, empty and depressing bed. Apparently, it caused more pain for Erik, when he had to face the pain of crawling into a bed alone, just like how he had his entire life. That itself tore my heart, but I couldn't stand to watch him beat himself up any longer. He needed to recover. . ._

_Erik was a wreck when I came over to escort him to his bed. He was passed out at his organ, with his face smashed against the keys, forcing the organ to emit deep, never ending notes. I had to come over and help him up, which wasn't easy since he was only half awake, stumbling over his own feet. His eyes were glassy and blood shot, and dark circles had formed under his eyes. If he had an alcohol scent on him he would have easily passed off as being an alcoholic. _

_Erik drowsily told me where his room was, and I helped him walk there, before he fell on his bed like a brick and passed out again._

_. . ._

After I took a seat on the swan bed, Erik joined me, sitting beside me. "I know very well that most people do not believe in witches anymore, but you still can't dress like that. You simply don't understand," Erik hissed. I knew that I was in for a lecture. "If you went out in _public_ like that –I-I _know_ that men like Buquet wouldn't hesitate to hurt you." His voice grew hard like a growl. When I met his hard eyes, I saw a clearly visible scowl sketched on his face. I was baffled to hear Buquet's name being mentioned.

"Buquet?" I echoed, instantly feeling stubborn about it afterwards. I watched Erik's visible eyebrow twitch towards the other, furrowing in a slightly irritable manner. He looked confused by y stupid question. "Yes, _him._" He said as though he had a bad taste in his mouth.

"Why did you try to kill him?" I asked as I met his eyes. As soon as my words reached his ears, I saw a change in his eyes. I saw so many different emotions flood into his blue eyes. At first a flicker of shock was identifiable before they softened upon my innocent eyes. He looked at me as though he was trying to reason with a small child. And a long with those emotions, I also saw a glint of anger at the very topic of Buquet. "You saw. . ?" He asked softly. I nodded. Seeing my gesture, he gave his reasoning.

"I was trying to protect you." I half expected his tone to be harsh, but it remained soft. I was taken aback by his answer. _To protect me?_ My mind echoed. "What do you mean?" I asked.

It didn't make sense. . .Even in the movie, he tried to kill Buquet, and at the time, I wasn't entirely sure why. I had several ideas but several questions at the same time. Why did Erik have to protect me from him anyways? Buquet and I never crossed paths.

"I'm not sure if it occurred to you, but Buquet has a history of hurting young women like you. I couldn't risk having him near you." His tone grew harsher at the thought of Buquet. My eyes uncomfortably deifted to the ground. Now I couldn't blame Erik for believing Buquet of doing something like htat, but he still didn't have to hunt him down. "But Buquet never went after me." My statement almost sounded like a question to my ears.

"I couldn't take the chance." He spat angrily. My eyes drifted back up to his, finding them hard. "You didn't have to try to _kill_ him." I argued.

"Really? What else was I supposed to do? What if he was attacking you? What am I supposed to do _then_?" He sneered. He said it as though I was stupid. His tone made me feel stupid, but I kept my chin up high anyways. "I'm not sure. Anything else but murder. I don't like Buquet either, but I hadte to see you kill others." I stopped when I heard a dry laugh come from him. It sounded like an angry laugh, and it made a shiver run up my spine.

"Oh Clare. . .You simply don't get it, do you? I appreciate your innocent view of the world, but you have to understand that he is dangerous. Now that he's still alive, he has a change of running into you, and hurting you. Now he has a chance to hurt many other women. Face it Clare, a dead man can't harm anyone. It would have made things much easier if I had just killed him." As awful as his reasoning sounded, I couldn't argue with him. I knew that what he said was true. My eyes drifted back to the ground, feeling defeated. I remained silent as he spoke.

"And if I see him try to go after you, I will not hesitate to end his life. I'm doing this for your protection. Please try to understand, Clare."

. . .

**That's the end of this chappie! **

**Not to confuse you guys, the parts that are in ****_italics_**** are just parts of Clare remembering something. **

**So what's gonna happen next? You guys will find out soon! Thank you for reading! Please, please review!**


	25. Light hearted

**Hey guys! I want to thank those who have been awesome with reviewing my chapters, although I didn't receive too many reviews for my last chapter. So, please, please, PLEASE review guys! I wanna know what you guys think of it. It means a LOT to me if you review! **

**Erik got 7 hugs from the last chapter.**

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, or its characters. I only own my OC.**

**Enjoy!**

**. . .**

Looking down at my lap, my hands fumbled with my phone that no longer worked. From the corner of my eye, I saw Erik follow my gaze until his eyes settled on my phone. I gently pressed several buttons, re-acknowledging my grief as the screen remained black, never to light up again. I could only imagine how ridiculous it looked to be depressed all because of a dead phone. But it made me grief stricken to know that I would never see my loved one's faces ever again.

_Good bye. . ._My mind said softly. "Did. . .Did your communication device finally stop working?" Erik asked carefully, in a soft, tender tone. His voice was so low, that for a moment, I wondered if I had just imagined it. I wasn't truly convinced that he had actually spoken the words until his eyes searched mine for an answer. Part of me, well, _most_ of me wondered if any of this was real. Sometimes, I caught myself feeling like I was in a daze, trying to break out and return to reality. Sometimes, everything around me felt like it was an illusion. Perhaps my mind was dreaming, and I couldn't escape until something brought me back to the real world. Was this world just an illusion? A dream? If it was, part of me wished that I would never awaken. After how far I had gotten, I couldn't bear to leave. Yet the other part of me begged to go home. My heart ached, longing to see my loved ones. The sickness caused by the ache in my heart also gnawed at the bottom of my stomach restlessly, until I was desperately wanting to curl up in fetal position. But I knew that even if I did that, the sickening feeling wouldn't fade away. It would linger, and my past would  
linger in my mind to haunt me forever.

If I returned home, I would then find myself wishing to return to now. To Erik's world. There was no winning. I was trapped, cursed to be unhappy either way. Cursed to selfishness in wanting life to be perfect. Would this miserable feeling haunt me forever? Was this a dream? Was I _supposed_ to break free from the daze? Was I lost forever in it? Forever to drown in Erik's voice?

As I stared at my phone, I felt it trigger the realization of reality. The item screamed home, and seeing something that came from home in a fictional place made it all real. The mist of confusion faded enough that I could finally see what was near. This was real. That was certain enough.

I pressed my lips into a straight line as I remembered Erik's question. Realizing that he had been patiently waiting for an answer, I slowly nodded. Lifting my eyes off from my phone, I met his soft eyes. I could see pity visible in his face as he looked at me. "I'm sorry, Clare." He whispered. "When did it. . ?" His voice trailed off, but I knew what he was saying.

"About a month ago." I finished for him. Erik's visible eyebrow furrowed towards the other in a confused manner. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he tried to figure out when exactly it happened. He opened his mouth with his luscious lips moving to form words, but nothing came out since I interrupted him before he could be given the chance to question any further. "I never told you because you were too busy mourning at your organ." My words came out slightly harsher that I intended to. I almost felt myself draw back away, surprised by my own tone.

Looking into Erik's eyes, afraid to see him angry, I was surprised to find shame etched on his face. "I know, I'm sorry, Clare. I should have been there for you, but. . ." He paused as he pondered over the right words. "Things have been very difficult lately." Ashamed, he averted his eyes to the ground. Part of me almost felt bad for snapping at him for it. I couldn't blame him – he had been heart -broken. "I understand. . ." I muttered quietly.

Erik's head snapped back up to me, looking at me shocked. "You do. . ?" He asked in disbelief. Is eyes were so surprised, that I had to bite my lip to suppress a giggle. How amusing he could be at times. . .

"Yes." I said as I nodded. "I guess neither of us have been having it any easier than the other. Life is just being a pain right now. But we just have to remember that things will get better," I nodded at him reassuringly. "Everyone goes through hard times, but we have them so we can cherish the good times." As I said this, Erik stared at me, taking in my words deeply. He then averted his eyes as he pondered over my words.

"I wish I could say the same thing, but I'm afraid that not everyone can look at life as positively as you do." He admitted painfully, chewing his lip. Avoiding my gaze, he kept his eyes lowered at the ground. I felt my eyes soften as I watched small wrinkles form around his eyes as they winced. A clear look of regret showed in his eyes. "But you can," I said, earning a gaze from him again. "You just haven't noticed the special things in life yet." _Please understand what my true message is in that._ I thought wishfully. _Please understand that I want to be that special thing that surfaces in your mind._ I felt so longing for him, but part of me scolded myself for thinking like a selfish fool. _Christine is for him, not you._ I pushed away my selfish thoughts that ached to have him.

Wish Erik now looking at me, his blue eyes softened. His blue eyes felt as though they gently held onto my own eyes, caressing me warmly. He held me, not with his arms, but his eyes. The edges of his lips curved into a smile. _I made him smile. . ._I thought in disbelief. He looked so amazing when he smiled. It made me want to melt. My goodness, I had never fallen so hard before.

As Erik's soft eyes allowed themselves to burrow deep into mine, I could see thoughts run across his mind. Several considerations were being pondered over – things that I did not know of. Right then, I felt myself craving to know just what it was. . .Begging for the secret to be revealed – the secret that actually made him smile gently at me.

"I have, _Cherie_." He said softly, correcting my statement that had been false. I felt my heart nearly stop at his words. _Did he really mean what I think. . ?"_ Had he looked at me in a longing way, or was I just imagining things? To prevent anymore foolish, wishful thinking to unravel, I smiled at Erik. "Then stop brooding. There's been enough of that this last month! Let's just. . .Enjoy today. Is that too much to ask?"

"No. No it's not." Erik agreed, light hearted. "What would you like to do?"

_Kiss you. Hug you. Have you._

"I'm not sure. What do you want to do?" I asked him. Erik's eyes moved towards the curtains that led to the main room. He was silent for a moment while he considered my question. "I would like to listen to you sing." He said after pondering, meeting my eyes once more. I dreaded that he would have eventually asked again. _You just had to ask what he wanted to do, stupid._ I knew that he was kind to me before about when I had sang with him, but it had been a while. A month of neglecting the perfection of my voice (No that I ever tried to be a singer to begin with) affected surely, and I felt that the self-conscious barriers had been built during that time. "I-I'm not good at singing." I stuttered nervously, feeling my cheeks flush, as I averted my eyes.

"Nonsense," Erik said. "You're voice is perfectly fine. Now, it may need a little bit of practice, but I could train your voice. With just a little bit of practice, and a few threats to the managers, I could place you on stage." I felt my cheeks flush even more at the image he pictured in his mind. I shook my head. "I don't think so. I would get terrible stage fright. . .Besides, I think I'm more interested in learning how to play the organ." I admitted shyly.

"The organ?" Erik echoed. His visible eyebrow rose in shock, as he said it. I nodded at him. "Well, if you would like to." He offered. I felt a small smile tug at my lips, as I nodded. I almost felt giddy. "Please." I watched as Erik's lips formed into a warm smile again. I felt my heart nearly melt as he returned the smile.

"Of course, _Cherie_."

. . .

"I _suck_ at this!" I cried, burring my face into my hands in irritation. As soon as my face fell into the palms of my hands, my elbows forced down on the keys, causing eerie notes to escape from the organ. "You, _what_?" Erik practically cried out in astonishment. His horrified tone took me by surprise – I had never heard him sound so appalled before. I then realized what I had said. _Suck._ That was the twenty first century word used in everyday life, yet it probably sounded disgusting here. I lifted my head up, turning to find him staring at me with wide eyes.

"Oh, where I'm from, we use that word a lot. I basically said that I have no musical talent at all." I explained, feeling my cheeks burn in embarrassment.

"Oh," Erik sighed out in relief. "My goodness, Child! Don't say something that shocking again! You forced me to think of it wrongly." Erik gave me a skeptical look as he said it. His face – the priceless expression was so amusing! My, I had never seen the Opera Ghost look so frightened before. . .Except for when my phone blinded him. . .I felt a smile tug at my lips. I felt my smile grow even more as Erik blinked a few times in confusion. "What are you smiling at, Child?" He asked me, raising a dark eyebrow. I couldn't suppress a giggle. I hadn't smiled so much in a while now.

"_You_." I said teasingly, poking his side. As soon as I jabbed his side, Erik jumped. His reaction caught my full attention now. _Oh, now what was this?_ I thought.

"Wait, is the Opera Ghost _ticklish_?" I asked in alarm. I then felt a wicked smile spread across my face. "No." Erik denied. Although, not even his mask, or his emotional mask, could hide the sheepish smile that crossed his lips. I could easily detect just how nervous he looked. It was so obvious – especially when he edged further away from me, closer to the end of the bench. I went to poke him again, but he caught my hand. I then felt a small wave of panic hit me, knowing that I was going to get a taste of my own medicine. Now it was Erik who smiled wickedly at me.

Narrowing his eyes at me, I recognized a devious glint in his blue eyes. He tightened his fingers around my hand, strong enough so I wouldn't be able to pull away.

"You cannot fool the Opera Ghost and get away with it." He said, with his smirk growing. With his grip on my hand, he tugged me right into his arms. I fell against him, not able to suppress a squeak of horror. One of his arms snaked around me so I couldn't get away. I could feel myself utterly panicking. Right then I felt him tickling my side. My earlier pokes to his side were considered weak compared to Erik, who's fingers felt as though they danced across my side.

I shrieked and then started laughing uncontrollably. My sides felt like they were on fire, and I desperately tried to push myself away from him. Although I quickly found that I couldn't escape from his strong arms. Instead, I quickly found myself begging helplessly.

"No, no -stop!" I cried out in between my laughs. "Have mercy!" Without any warning, he released me, and I sprang away, gasping for air. He crossed his arms and looked at me with a smug grin.

I could just about read his mind then.

_Don't mess with the Opera Ghost._

. . .

**Alright, that's the end of this chapter! **

**Yay, fluffy-ness! Did you guys like the fluff I threw in? I decided that the story can't go on forever with brooding, sadness. Clare and Erik needed a small break. And with that, came the fluff! Ya gotta love fluff. **

**But what was it that Erik was considering earlier? What do you guys think? Does he like her? Even just a smidge? Share your thoughts on it! I'd like to know! **

**Thanks for reading! Please, please, PLEASE review!**


	26. A Problem

**Yay, you guys have been awesome with reviewing! Thank you! I'm beginning to see some more reviews, and I really just wanna say thank you so much for them! They mean a lot to me! **

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, or its music. *Pouts* I only own my OC.**

**Enjoy!**

**. . .**

I found that on a regular basis, Erik and I passed the time just by talking. I had never known the Phantom to be so talkative, but I was proven wrong. This was good for both of us though. It gave us the opportunity to get the things that haunted us, out of our minds. The month had been a terrible brooding month – the grief invaded our tortured souls restlessly, so our moments of just talking, was the first relief in the longest time.

For once, I could finally escape from the cold icy water that tried to drown me. For once I could escape from the darkness that tried to swallow me whole. I could finally breathe. The heavy stress that weighed down on my shoulders was finally lifted off. If I wasn't mistaken, it seemed that relief had been brought to Erik as well. During this time, we paid little to no attention to the outside world, and that itself brought peace. These moments were for Erik and I, and it felt like nothing could interfere.

For the longest time I feared that I wouldn't be able to find happiness. I felt that perhaps, I had died in that car accident, and with that, so did my past that held precious memories of laughter and peace. Perhaps I would never feel the comforting feeling of home again. . .There was something so nice about home. Home wasn't necessarily the house itself that was soothing, but it was the family. Without caring families, we aren't complete. Without my family, I wouldn't have been the same person.

Although for the last month, I fought to remember what it felt like to be at home. The old feeling of the comfort that came from home nearly felt foreign now. The comfort that many depended on had left me. It wasn't until Erik and I pushed aside our torments, and simply spent time together, that I began to feel the old feeling of comfort again. Just by talking, I felt a bond developing. We shared stories of our life, and it felt like such a relief to me. It was nice to just talk and reminisce. A few times I got very choked up whenever I would talk about my old life, but Erik was very patient and understanding, which helped me find confidence to continue on. By the end of it, I felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It felt great just to get it off my chest.

Erik had always struggled to talk about his past, but during this time, I could see him beginning to break out of his shell. He had been very hesitant with speaking about his past, but he slowly warmed up to it the more he spoke about it. At this point, everything he mentioned matched with the novels. I always listened to him intently, never speaking until he had stopped. I had always enjoyed reading the novels but it was nothing compared to hearing it from Erik. It was simply even more intriguing to hear it from the Phantom himself.

I had always felt awful for Erik in the novels when his childhood was told, but it was tear-jerking to hear it from him personally. What it was that made it utterly heart breaking was to see his facial expressions, and to hear how his tone would change. Sometimes his face would harden and his voice grew cold. Other times his eyes would soften and his tone would waver. Hearing it from him in person had a greater affect on me then the novels did.

Aside from Erik and I's discussion of our lives, I face a conclusion that I would have had to accept sooner or later. As unnerving as it was at first, I had to try to get my heard wrapped around these different tie frames. I often found myself wondering about home. Considering how long I had been in this time frame, I began to realize that I may never return home. I realized that from then on, I would just have to accept this as a new home. I just had to carry on with what I knew, which meant that I accepted that I would be here for a very long time.

With that, I had to re-adjust to the new months and years. It was summer when I had left home. Now it was late winter here. It was certainly odd, and it seemed as though this whole year was going to be all backwards and easily throw me off. Although I knew that I would just have to get used to it. Trying to adjust to the odd year that was laid out ahead, I decided to simply continue on with what I knew. Last time I checked, I was sixteen. Although now that the seasons where backwards, I realized that I had turned seventeen quite a while ago. My goodness, it felt like I would _never_ adjust to this new time.

. . .

"Clare, I have something for you." Erik said one morning at his organ. With myself lazily lounged in a nearby chair, I opened my eyes upon hearing him.

"Like what?" I asked curiously. _Something for me?_ I wondered. _What could it possibly be? . . .My goodness, now I'm rhyming. . ._Why would the Opera Ghost get me something? I didn't need anything. Looking at Erik's form that was faced away from me, I could almost see him shift awkwardly on the bench. "Well. . ." Erik mused as he stood from the organ. "I know that things have been awfully confusing lately. . ." He turned to face me, with surprisingly a cheeky grin on his face. "But you decided to follow this time for now on, which means that your birthday passed quite a while ago," I stared at him suspiciously as he explained. "And because of that, I decided that I wanted to get you a present." He explained.

I stared at his warm, sincere smile, dumbfounded by his decision. "You got me a present?" I asked in slight alarm. I didn't mean to make myself sound so surprised, but I hadn't been expecting to receive a present so suddenly. Erik nodded.

"But, but. . ." I stuttered stubbornly, sounding a lot like a child. "But you didn't have to get me anything!" I cried out, half rising from my chair.

"Yes I did – now wait there, _Cherie_," Erik hastily said, stopping me from getting up. "I will be right back." With that, he turned and quickly yet gracefully disappeared into his dark room. I sighed and sunk back into my chair in defeat. A feeling of guilt came over me by then. _Agh, you just __**had**__ to get me something. . ._I grumbled on the inside._ Now I won't know how to repay you._

Erik's dark form then gracefully stepped out from the shadows of his room, balancing a long box in both of his hands. I felt one of my furrowed eyebrows rise slightly in confusion. "What is it?" I asked as he neared me. "Open it and you will see." He said as he handed the box to me. The faint weight of the box fell into my hands, as I gently sat it in my lap. My hands skimmed across the box, finding the lid as my fingers curled over the edges. With a smirk pulling at my lips, I raised a teasing eyebrow at Erik, still questioning him. Erik just smiled, with eyes urging me to open it. Playfully rolling my eyes, I went ahead and lifted the lid off.

Peering into the box, a deep red, velvety material filled the inside. I nearly gasped at the beautiful scarlet color that my eyes were suddenly faced with. Lifting it into the air, the material unfolded, revealing a beautiful, elegant dress. By now, I was gaping, as my eyes explored the details of the dress.

It was a full length, ball gown dress. The dress had a sweetheart neck line, with two into shoulder straps lined with gold thread. Below the neck line was a beautiful golden design that cascaded down the chest. The golden design started at the collar bone that flowed down to the middle of the chest, looking like liquid fire. It almost looked like a built in necklace but it was sewn in with golden thread instead. At the bottom of the skirt of the dress was more golden thread that formed a similar golden design as it did at the top. This design however, started from the bottom, and cascaded up until it stopped below the knees. The entire scarlet red dress was lined with golden thread.

It. . .It was so _beautiful._ I stared at it speechless. My wide eyes flew back to Erik's in disbelief. "My. . .My goodness! It's so beautiful!" I breathed out in awe. "You didn't have to do this!" I cried out. _It __**had**__ to have been expensive! _The thought of him going through all of the trouble to get me something like this made me feel so guilty. "Yes I did. You deserve it, Clare. . .Plus you need it. I'm sure you don't want to wear the same night gown forever." Erik pointed out.

I couldn't argue with him there. But gosh, a dress like _this?_ He could have gotten me a simple dress. This had to be a ball gown. Although even if he had gotten me a simple dress, I still would have been guilty and grateful all at once. That very thought suddenly made a question pop up in my mind. It had always been a question I had wanted to ask, but couldn't get past the bashful side to ask.

"Speaking of which, when I first came here, you gave me this night gown to wear. . ." I began hesitantly. "Why did you have it to begin with?" I asked, feeling a little awkward about it. Erik's eyes that had been happy at first, suddenly dulled to sadness or perhaps merely disappointment. His smile drooped, and twisted into a small frown. His eyes painfully drifted away from mine. "Well. . ." Erik started uncomfortably.

"I had retrieved it from the costume room for in case Christine needed it. . .you already know that I had plans to marry her. And if she was going to live here with me, I wanted her to have something to wear." He finished with a bitter frown on his lips. I felt a little bad to have brought it up, considering that it wasn't a very fond memory for him. Although through the pity, something that he had made sure to have carefully worded, caught my attention. He said that he had _had_ plans to marry her. . .What does he feel _now_? Wasn't he planning to get Christine through his music? Wasn't he writing Don Juan? Before I could say anything, he interrupted my thoughts.

"You should try it on, Clare, and make sure it fits." By now, he looked like he was trying hard not to look upset in front of me. He looked like he was making an effort to push away his heartache at the moment. I didn't want to push the limits – especially since he was trying to lighten up, and not let his heartbreak get in the way. I didn't want to tear him down by asking any questions, so I left it be. _I'll just ask questions another time. . ._I decided. Instead, I nodded at Erik. "Alright." I said, as I held the dress tightly against my chest, as a child holds a toy.

Standing up from my chair, I smiled warmly at Erik, hoping to lighten up things. He smiled gently at me, still looking as though he was trying to shake off his slight discomfort. I wanted to hug him from pity, yet at the same time, I wanted to hug him for the new dress. He really was a sweetheart once you got past his brooding, self hatred.

Stepping closer, I looked up at him with soft eyes. I noticed how his visible eyebrow furrowed slightly in confusion. The fact that he was looking down at me, made me realize just how short I must have seemed to him. He was so tall. It felt like he was at least a head or two taller – he towered over me. He could nearly cast a shadow over my form.

Standing on my tippy toes, I wrapped an arm around him, while I held my dress in my other arm. "Thank you so much. . .I don't even deserve this." I said softly. After a moment of hesitation, I felt Erik gently return my embrace. People always described him as being so cold, but they were wrong. When Erik's arms wrapped around me, I felt so warm. . .So comforted. The blanket of his scent wrapped around me and I instantly relished being in his arms. "You deserve it, and more." Erik whispered in my ear. His breath touched my ear and I had to suppress a shiver. I was convinced that if he continued to talk softly in my ear, I would fall under a spell whether he intended it or not.

By the time we pulled away, I found Erik looking down at me with softer eyes once more. A small smile pulled at the corners of his lips. It was a true smile. He would simply never understand just how beautiful he really was. He was so _handsome_, especially when he would look at me with a smile on his lips. Everything about him – even to the smallest details, he dazzled me. . .He would sometimes make me lose my breath. It felt as though I could have stood there all day, admiring him, but I mentally reminded myself to move along before I looked like a complete idiot. I forced my legs, that suddenly felt like lead, to move towards the swan room.

Before I knew it, I was in the swan room, looking at the scarlet dress. I faintly heard beautiful notes emitting from the organ as I got ready to try on the dress. As soon as my fingers touched the lacy ties in the back of the dress, a thought dawned on me. It felt like everything screeched to a stop, an my eyes grew wide. A wave of cold fear surged through my body. There was one problem with all of this. One little problem. Although this little problem was still big enough to make me utterly panicked. . .

I didn't know how to put on a corset.

_What the hell am I supposed to tell Erik, __**now**__?!_

. . .

**Uh oh! Clare certainly has a problem there. I know, it might sound like a stupid problem, but think about it! Being a girl in Erik's lair who's never used a corset is awfully scary. Now how would you be able to cope with that? Hahaha, ask Erik to help? My, my. . .Clare has a problem there.**

**So what will happen next? You'll find out soon!**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**


	27. Awkward

**Hey, guys!**

**I'm sorry for the late update, but last week was a busy week, so I've been writing every day this week for you guys! Plus, it was a fun scene to write! XD**

**Thank you all so much for the reviews! I love your comments – thank you!**

**I would also like to give a special thanks to ****Zombitude** **for helping me out with this chapter a bit. Thank you, you're awesome! We both brain stormed over it, so hope you guys like it!**

**Sorry if there are errors, but I was sorta rushing with getting this posted. . .Hope there aren't any mistakes, but I'm sure they're there.**

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, or its music. I only own my OC.**

**Enjoy!**

**. . .**

I was definitely panicking by then. What could I _possibly_ tell Erik? _Oh, I've never worn a corset, so get in here and give me a hand?!_ My mind questioned me obnoxiously.

I knew that I couldn't possibly ask for help. Although what else could I do? _Surely, my bra __**must**__ work!_ My mind desperately said. Although as I thought this, the memory of trying a dress on without a corset flashed into my mind. It was the night I left to prevent Erik from murdering Buquet. At the time, I tried a dress on without a corset. . .That was a fail. A bra wouldn't help. I needed a corset in order for the dress to fit correctly.

I ran a hand through my wavy hair, feeling my hands grow moist with anxiety. _Oh no, this is just awful!_ Pacing back and forth in the swan room, I decided that there was one other thing I could try. I wasn't sure if it was going to work, but I decided to try to figure out the corset myself. _How hard could it be?_

. . .

I growled in frustration and flopped onto the swan bed, reluctantly accepting that it was hopeless. _Oh, this corset was so stubborn!_ I racked my fingers through my hair again, in an exasperated frenzy. Not only had I learned that it was extremely frustrating and next to impossible to put it on, but I also realized that I needed someone to help me.

I buried my face into my hands in embarrassment. _This can't be happening. . .No, no. . .This is just terrible! I couldn't possibly ask Erik for help!_ My mind shrieked. _That would be humiliating!_

I couldn't. . .I wouldn't!

_You have to._ My mind argued, as I changed back into the nightgown feeling bitter about it. I felt like screaming into a pillow right about then. _Why did this have to happen? It's so unfair!_ I sat back down on the swan bed, and I looked down at the beautiful dress that lied next to me, sprawled out on the swan bed. It was so beautiful. . .Plus I needed something new to wear. I knew that I was practically cornered. There was no other solution except for Erik to help me. I felt so defeated. I had no other option. I knew that this would be one of the most awkward experiences that I would face.

_Alright, deep breath, Clare._ I told myself. _Now go out there._ I had somehow managed to stand up from the swan bed once more, although my feet were like lead. My shoulders tensed up. With my arms pinned at my sides, my hands closed into tight fists in stress, and. . .Fear? _Calm down, you're just nervous._ I told myself as I realized just how hot the room suddenly felt.

_Of course I'm nervous!_ My mind shrieked. _I'm about to ask Erik to help me put on a corset!_ My throat grew sticky and dry. _You have no other choice._ I told myself, licking my lips and swallowing nervously. _You __**have**__ to learn how to wear it sooner or later._ I quietly exhaled unsteadily, feeling my tense shoulders drop shakily know I was right. Somehow mustering up some courage, I headed out of the swan room before I could change my mind.

. . .

_This is a bad idea._ I kept thinking. I could see him sitting at the organ. Even though I was growing more and more nervous, I kept on walking towards him. My feet that had been lead earlier, now wouldn't stop, whether I felt courage or not. It was certain – I didn't feel an ounce of courage. Although I felt panic rising in my heart, it was my mind that told me to keep going. My determined mind urged my legs to keep moving, trying to ignore just how nervous I really was. Even though I was terrified, I knew that chickening out wasn't an option.

My thoughts were loud with panic, that I almost hadn't even realized that I was standing next to Erik. It wasn't until he turned and locked eyes with me, that I felt my heart nearly stop dead in my chest. It wasn't until then that I was brought back to cruel, cruel reality. A cold wave of fear washed through my body to be standing there under his gaze. Erik's visible eyebrow furrowed in a questionable manner as he looked at the nightgown.

"You're not wearing the dress," He said in a slightly hurt tone. "Do you not like it?" He inquired.

"No!" I said rather too quickly. I instantly felt stupid when Erik looked at me taken aback. My ridiculous nervousness was making me sound skittish. I cleared my throat, trying to start over. "No, it's beautiful," I said carefully. "It's just that I. . .I had a small problem. . ." I trailed off nervously. Erik's eyes grew slightly, and his visible eyebrow rose in a worried manner. "A problem with the dress?" He asked in a concerned tone.

"No, it's not the dress, it's me." I explained, trying to relieve his concern. _Way to go, you sound like you're going through a break up with the dress._ My mind teased. Erik's concern seemed to relax in his eyes. "What is it then?" He asked curiously. _Oh no, here we go. . ._

Realizing that it was time, I felt my heart thump nervously in my chest. A cold wave of fear washed through me again. _This can't be happening._ My anxiety rapidly built up in my heart to the point that I wanted to run away from the spot. It felt as though everyone was staring at me, but it was only Erik. But either way, I was in the spot light, and I certainly didn't want to be there. I was fearful just to _begin_. The anxiety moved from my heart, and gnawed at my stomach. Although it made my stomach knot up, it still didn't cease my pounding heart. I thought for sure that he could probably hear it.

"W-Well. . ." I nervously began. "You know very well that I'm not from here. . ." It was terrifying just to even begin saying it. What was wrong with me? My voice was wavering terribly. I tried my best to stop it, but it was useless. "A-And where I'm from, we don't have. . .Uh. . ." I averted my eyes from his. Trying to calm myself, I tried to distract myself with the end of my sleeve, twisting it nervously.

You're shaking, Clare – Are you alright?" He asked in a concerned tone. I hadn't even realized that I was practically trembling before him. I nodded nervously as I fumbled with a loose thread on my sleeve. "I'm not sure what troubles your mind so much, but please say what it is." He begged. By then I could really feel my heart pounding. I could then clearly feel myself trembling even though I tried hard not to. _Take a deep breath._ I did as I told myself, but it wasn't very steady. _Now just say it._

"W-Well, from my time, we don't have corsets, and. . .Well, I have no idea how to wear one." I blurted out before I could change my mind. My eyes flew back up to meet his, and held my breath. I watched as my words processed in his mind. After a moment, he blinked in realization, and his blue eyes grew in shock. Part of him looked shocked, and the other part looked embarrassed. Beside his white mask, the exposed side of his face turned pink. "_Oh_." He said with blushing cheeks.

I turned my face away in embarrassment. I could really feel my face heating up. There was a very long awkward silence between us that felt like an eternity. I wanted him – _needed _him to break the silence, but even I wasn't sure what to say. I released a quiet, relieved breath when he spoke again. "Are you inquiring for help?" He asked very slowly, sounding awkward about the situation as well. I felt panic creep back onto me again. "W-Well, I've never worn one before. . ." I squeaked. My eyes drifted up to Erik's, who appeared to be avoiding my gaze. He chewed his lip nervously.

"Alright. . .What I want you to do is to go and try to change out into the corset the best you can. Then call for me when you need it to be laced in the back." He instructed in a low tone. I was shocked that he was actually willing to help. Not knowing what else to do, I clamped my mouth shut, nodded, and silently went back into the swan room.

. . .

It was terribly embarrassing at first, especially to have a blanket draped over most of my body – not that I was naked, but I still didn't want to show too much skin to the Opera Ghost. I did my best to hold the corset in place. I was lucky to wear a sleeveless under shirt beneath the corset so that I wouldn't be topless, but it was still awkward. . .It may have not seemed like a big deal, but I knew that it would be awkward for Erik. After all, if a guy in this time thought it was awful for a woman to wear pants, I could only imagine how awful it must have seemed to be running around in a sleeveless tank top. In my time it wouldn't be as big of a deal. Although to Erik, he would be seeing a lot of skin. That itself was what bothered me.

I sat in the swan bed, holding the corset against my chest. "Alright, you can come in, now!" I hollered. I waited silently in all of my nervousness. After several long second of no response from him, I was getting ready to holler again until a sudden soft touch grazed my bare shoulder, forcing my heart to spring in fear. I nearly leaped out of my skin, though I somehow remained still in frozen panic. Instead my head snapped over to see Erik lingering behind me. My heart was racing from his unexpected touch, although I began to calm down to see that it was just him. It was amazing how I never even _heard_ him coming.

His finger tips were just barely touching my shoulder. His hand was trembling as he touched my skin, testing to see it if was alright to do this. I had never seen him look so scared before. His hand was shaking terribly as he gathered up all of my hair in one hand, swept it across my neck, and draped it across my other shoulder in order to get to the ties of my corset. He looked terribly nervous, and it made me feel like it was my fault. _Well he would've needed to have showed you how to use a corset sooner or later._ I told myself.

I wanted to somehow tell him that it was alright and that he didn't have to look so scared, but I couldn't find anything to say. Instead, I remained silent, and turned my gaze way from his flushing face, hoping that it would help relieve his nerves a bit. I felt him grab onto the strings, and he tugged on them. My breath hitched in my throat at the force. It felt harsh, though I knew that he didn't intend it to. He yanked on it again, and I felt the corset fasten around me. As he tugged at the ties, I felt it grow tighter and tighter until I thought it couldn't be tightened anymore. Either I was paranoid, or I was having trouble with breathing in it. _You're just paranoid._ I decided.

I could feel my face growing hot from the moment he came in to help me. I could feel my face flushing more and more every second. I felt like I was going to die in embarrassment. I wanted to hide, and curl up to wallow in my own humiliation. _Get him out of here before I explode in shame!_ My mind screamed at him to hurry up with tying my corset and leave before I would die. Even a second with his hands on my ties felt like an eternity too long. Several times while he was tying my corset, I felt him drop the laces. Every time I felt the ties tap my back, I would hear Erik curse under his breath, before uneasily picking up the ties once more. I couldn't suppress a giggle in time from him hearing it.

"_What?_" He snapped, clearly sounding embarrassed. I shook my head, feeling a wide grin tracing my lips. "Nothing." I said trying to stifle a laugh, although I felt my trembling shoulders give me away. I faintly heard Erik sigh irritably, before he proceeded to tie my corset.

. . .

**I originally planned to write more for this chapter, but that will have to wait for the next one, unfortunately! Sorry, I ran out of time to trying to type, and write my chapter, but I wanted it up now, since I didn't want to keep you guys waiting for another week. The next chapter will probably be posted soon, and it will probably be a shorter chapter. But there will be more to come!**

**But any-hoo, poor Erik, and poor Clare! They're both so shy! But what will happen next? You'll find out in the next chapter!**

**But mean while, don't forget to review and share what you thought of it! Thanks for reading!**


	28. Set Me Free

**Hey guys!**

**Thank you so much for your awesome reviews, guys! Love you all!**

**Sorry, it took a little longer than I thought – a lot has been going on this last week or so, but either way, here it is!**

**This song is named after a lyric in ****Gravity**** by ****Sara Bareilles****. . .I WOULD have just named it by ****Gravity****, but I already did that for a past chapter. So, instead, I just chose a lyric from the song.**

**Yes, the last chapter was so awkward, huh? Weeeeelll, I hope you enjoy Erik's POV afterward! **

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera or ****Gravity**** by Sara ****Bareilles**** – only my OC, Clare. *Pouts***

**Enjoy!**

**. . .**

**Erik's POV**

I hastily left Clare to her room after I was sure that her corset was tied well. I couldn't get away fast enough from her seeing just how nervous I was. Even with my mask, I couldn't hide my humiliation from her. Trying my best to calm down, I sat down at the organ, playing the first melody that came to mind. I had to get my mind off of everything. Although even my music couldn't get my mind off of what had happened. The previous events, the previous thoughts, all ran through my mind like how a repetitive song does. They were things that I was not entirely proud of. . .

Why did I have to be so afraid to tie her corset? Why did my eyes have to take in every detail?

_I tugged on the ties, willing to tie it tight but not too forceful, though I couldn't stop it from it being next to unbearable according to how her entire body seemed to tense up every time I yanked on the strings. I wanted to apologize, but stopping for even a moment would stall my chance to escape before anything bad could happen. And what was that bad thing? It was something unspeakable. . .If I stayed just long enough, I wouldn't know just how to stop myself. It would all start by just a kiss on her shoulder. . .That itself would excel to much more if I wasn't stopped._

I shook my head in shame. I couldn't be thinking of her in such a way. She was only a child! _She is the same age as Christine. . ._My mind hissed. I nearly cringed at the name of my beloved angel. . .My angel that brought me pain. . .The name of my angel that now felt. . ._Tainted._

This thought frightened me. I often tried not to think of it in such a revolted manner, but deep down, I secretly felt sour towards the thought of her. I could feel it though – I didn't want to admit it to myself that the feelings I felt for Christine newly turned bitter. I had spent so long feeling love towards her, but now. . .It felt different. I didn't like this change, and I often tried to tell myself differently, but I found myself reluctantly trying to remember what it was that I desired so much about her. That feeling of love felt lost, and with that, I tried to seek it out once more in her. _You merely feel this way because it has been so long since you have last seen her. _My mind said._ Once you hear her. . .Once you see her, all that was lost will be gained again._

Trying to remember the reasons why I loved Christine, an old conversation that Clare and I had, flooded into my mind.

. . .

_"You do you even lover her?" She questioned, as she looked up at me with her big green doe eyes. I felt myself blink several times in confusion. What a thing to ask! "What exactly do you mean?" I inquired, raising an eyebrow, recognizing an edge of irritation audible in my voice._

_"Well," Clare began. "She's awfully timid." I felt myself raise an eyebrow at the small figure in front of me. "And you're not?" I asked with doubt lacing tightly to my words. At my words, Clare rolled her eyes irritably. "Oh __**please**__," She pouted slightly. "You know very well that she is a lot worse than I am. And she always does what you ask for. She never makes any of her own decisions. Plus, she constantly looks scared and helpless." Clare simply complained it in a casual way, not seeming worried by what I would think._

_"She is still very young." I argued in an icy tone. I watched as Clare crossed her arms. "You love her because she's young and pretty?" She questioned. I felt myself scowl at her. "No," I said. "I love her for who she really is." She arched an eyebrow._

_"Really?" She asked in a flat tone. "You don't seem to even know her very well." She accused stubbornly. I felt my blood rise from her irritable statements. "I can assure you that I know her very well." I argued, struggling to keep a low, cool tone. _

_"Better than me?" She questioned. I opened my mouth to argue, but I immediately stopped and clamped my mouth shut. It was then that I realized that she was right._

_. . ._

I pulled away from the memory as my fingers pressed several more keys. It was true – I did know more about Clare than Christine. And when I was with Clare, I found that I was genuinely happy. . .That was an odd thing for me to admit. Rarely did I ever feel blissful at all. Perhaps when I would play music. Thinking about Christine used to feel blissful. I never had anything else besides those two things make me feel happy. Although now when I thought of it, I had never experienced such joy as I did when I was simply talking with Clare. Plus I had never talked so much in my entire life than I did while visiting with her. Although as talkative as that child could be, she could never have been so silent as she was when I tied her corset. I couldn't blame her though, for I was just as quiet as she was during then. She was most likely silent from embarrassment, but I was silent because I was struggling to keep myself content. I knew I had to leave before anything could happen. It was all that I could think of. . .That and other things that I couldn't dare admit that my mind thought of.

_Unable to take it any longer, my arms snaked around her waist, crushing her to me. I pressed my lips against hers desperately wanting to taste her. If she kissed me back, then I would proceed. Keeping her wrapped tightly in my arms, I pushed her down against the bed. My lips found her neck as my hands wandered to find her ties. . ._

My eyes snapped open in horror, forcing me away from the terrible thing my mind had wandered upon. My frantic fingers froze against the keys of the organ. The notes rang out through the air as the ending notes cascaded into my ears. I then realized what I had been blindly playing. Don Juan. What the _wrong_ with me?! I couldn't think of Clare this way! _You're a monster._ My mind whispered.

_I know._ I inwardly moaned. I buried my face into my hands in shame. _What the Hell is wrong with me?!_ I screamed once more on the inside. _I really am terrible, aren't I? _How could I be attracted to Clare this way? How could my mind think this? _Clare is just a child._ I told myself. _No she's not._ My mind argued. _You just haven't gotten a good look at her yet. _I shook my head in disgust. I couldn't possibly think of her that way! I hadn't even known her for very long. _That's the thing. _I thought._ You only __**think**__ that you're in love with her, but you're not. You're just not used to having a woman in your home. _I told myself. _And because of this, there's been more attention on a woman more than usual. . .But that does not mean that you actually love her. It's all just in your head. You still love Christine. You just need to see her again._

As I thought this, my stomach turned slightly. I realized that Clare had been right this whole time. From time to time, in order to pull me away from the brooding ruble that I had been sure that I was buried alive under, Clare had to show me that Christine was only causing me more pain. Clare never told me that Christine would never love me, but she didn't have to. It was obvious. An angel would never love a monster. Even if the angel was just as deceiving as Christine.

Instead, Clare merely tried to convince me that Christine was so called, "_not good enough for me"_. . .Nor was anyone else in Clare's, obviously confused eyes. I merely dryly laughed at her ridiculous comment. Was the child weary and confused? Perhaps she was – after all, it was late – I wouldn't have been surprised if she was merely babbling tiresome. I was convinced that the average person wouldn't say something like that when fully awake (or _anytime_ at all), although I was then reminded of how extraordinary Clare was.

She was the one who kindly looked upon my face without any remorse. She was the one who told me kind words. She was the one who showed true compassion. Clare brought joy yet comfort all at once. Christine never brought any of that. Perhaps I tried hard to find happiness, but I didn't need to force Christine to love me. That wouldn't bring happiness. . .With that, a thought came to mind as I casted my eyes down to my music notes.

_What was there to do now? My plan to write Don Juan Triumphant was ruined. My plans to make Christine fall in love with me was redundant, for my own feelings for her felt reluctant._ The score that I poured my muse into for the last couple months now felt empty in my heart. My inspiration was no longer there. Each passing day, I found myself more and more intrigued to spend time with Clare, then to write Don Juan Triumphant. Even if I tried, I couldn't write it. I couldn't quite sought out what it was that I felt for Clare yet, but I did know that writing the score was no longer needed. Taking the score into hand, I quickly spotted the waste bin nearby. I tossed the notes that were tucked away in the leathery cover in, not even bothering to waste another glance at it.

**Clare's POV**

"Well, how does it look?" I asked as I spun in a circle with my red dress flaring out and then twirling around my body. Erik was standing there, looking at the organ waiting for me to come out, before turning towards me with his arms crossed. His eyes changed as they locked on my dress, and his mouth gaped open slightly. He studied my dress for a very long time. . .A little longer than normal actually. I felt a blush crawl to my cheeks when I realized that his blue eyes were wandering. _What was he doing? _ My mind blurted out to me. _Is he checking me out?_ I thought baffled.

I felt butterflies in my stomach at just the very idea of him thinking of me that way. _Nonsense. _I told myself._ He's just seeing if the dress looks alright._ When I looked back, I noticed that his eyes continued to linger on me a little longer. I cleared my throat which snapped his attention from my dress. His eyes quickly met mine again.

"It looks beautiful on you," He said quickly. "Although it will look even better with a few accessories. . ." He grabbed something that had been sitting next to his notes on the organ. He walked towards me with something glinting in his hands. My eyes studied his hand, wondering what it was that kept sparkling at me. I tried to see, but his long fingers were curled over it, keeping it hidden from my curious eyes. By the time he reached me he was giving me a small smile. His boots thumped on the ground as he stepped behind me. "What are you doing?" I asked.

I waited for an answer that I never seemed to receive. Instead, he brushed my hair aside before something lacy gently wrapped around my neck. If I hadn't known Erik as a friend, I would have been horrified to have his hands near my throat, although I remained calm and patiently waited. His soft hands worked swiftly, with what felt like a lacy chain, around my neck, sometimes grazing my skin with his soft fingers.

By the time he pulled away, I brought my hand up to feel what it was that was around my neck. Although before I even could, an unexpected touch gently grasped onto my hand. My breath hitched in my throat when I realized that it was Erik who had grabbed onto my hand. _He never does this. _My mind breathed. With me and my full attention, he led me I followed him, warily, until he stopped in front of a red curtain. There was something oddly familiar about all of this. . .

With his free hand, Erik pulled the red curtain aside, and I found myself staring back at my own eyes. Startled, I somehow managed to hold back an astonished squeak. My mind then reminded me what it was about this that seemed so familiar.

_. . .Erik, with Christine's hand in his, led her to a red curtain. Pulling it aside, Christine turned to find herself face to face with a perfect image of her. With her eyes rolling back, she went limp and Erik caught her. . ._

My body somehow resisted the urge to twitch from desperately wanting to reel back a couple feet in panic. Of course I panicked on the inside from what my mind had oddly pieced together. The first conclusion that my mind leaped to was that I was staring at a wax figure of myself. Although, once my eyes studied it longer than a second, I stood slightly dumbfounded to merely be looking into a mirror. By then, I felt like a complete moron. _You thought it was a wax figure!_ My mind teased._ You idiot! You're only looking at your own reflection!_

Looking back at my own reflection I realized just how noticeable my frightened state looked when I saw how my collarbone rose and fell rapidly as my chest did with every breath. I didn't want to concern Erik, so I forced myself to take normal breaths, hoping to disguise my previous panic. My pounding heart began to calm down in my chest. Doing my best to subside my anxiety, my eyes met a small twinkly stone on my neck. There was a pretty black lacy choker necklace with a simple yet pretty white stone. As simple as it seemed, it went perfectly with the outfit.

My mouth opened to breathe out in awe or to thank him but he stopped me. He stopped me by gently taking my hand into his. His hands were so _soft,_ that I wanted to hold his hand every day, as cheesy as it sounded. Before I could be given enough time to relish it, another soft touch went into my hand. My eyes casted down to find black material wrapped under my fingers. He pulled his hands away, allowing me to discover it myself. I wanted to ask what it was, but his eyes urged me to look at it. I found that caressed in the palms of my hands, were black lacy gloves. They weren't the long gloves that stretched to my elbows, but my wrists instead. . .Yes, my wrists that had been injured in the car accident. I slipped the lacy gloves, finding that they nicely hid the scars on my hand. The gloves were so pretty. Now the outfit truly seemed complete.

Overcome by guilt and appreciation all at once, I threw my arms around his head. I pulled him close until I could rest my head against his broad chest. "Thank you so much," I whispered to him. "I wish I could give you something in return." At this, I felt Erik stroke my red hair with his long fingers, pulling me close to him. "You already have, _Mon Cherie_." He whispered in his deep, velvet voice.

. . .

**Alrighty, that's the end of this chapter! Whew, I'm tired.**

**Soooooo, it looks like Erik is a little conflicted. He's trying to deny his feelings for Clare?! When is he going to discover what he truly feels for her? What do you guys think is gonna happen? Share what you think through reviews! **

**Thanks for reading! Just remember – review! Please? *Puppy eyes***


	29. Can You Hear Me?

**Hey guys!**

**My apologizes for the late update, but I was on vacation at Disneyland for a week! **

**Thank you all so much for all of your reviews! I love them all, and I was beaming the entire time I was reading them all – thank you so much! I also noticed that some where a little nervous, or quite happy to read in Erik's POV. . .Especially during his mini daydream! XD Although, I want to inform you all that there will be NO lemons during a T raided story. Sorry guys, but lemons aren't allowed in fanfictions that are under T. **

**This chapter is named after a lyric in ****Falling in the Black**** by ****Skillet****. **

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera or any songs by Skillet. I only own my OC Clare!**

**Enjoy!**

**. . .**

**Clare's POV:**

_You have to go to the masquerade._ My mind said. _It's time – you know he's going to be there. He's going to go and threaten everyone. That will lead to Don Juan and the Chandelier._ My mind planned out. _You know what you have to do – you have to stop him from this catastrophe._

I watched Erik carefully throughout the months. To be honest, he didn't seem to be writing Don Juan. . .His music never seemed to match the melody very often. _Perhaps he plays it when I'm asleep._ I thought. Although there were several times I awoke in the middle of the night, I was always too tired to recognize it. Either my heavy eyes wouldn't allow me to keep them open, or his mesmerizing music lulled me right back to sleep. It was hard to determine that. I _would_ have been worried to still hear him play throughout the night, fearing that he would never get rest, but his calmer, non-brooding manner soothed my concerns. At least I knew that he wasn't suffering any more. . .At least, not from what I knew of.

The day of the masquerade came quickly, and I found myself pacing back and forth in the swan room once more. _Why should I go anyways? He seems so much calmer. . .He doesn't appear to have plans of going._ I thought.

_You should still go – you know how he is – he is sneaky - he will leave with nothing but a note behind to tell you that he had to take care of something. _My mind said. _And by then, it would be too late._

I knew that my conscience had a valid point. It was true. Erik was very sneaky. He would leave for the masquerade before I would even know it. _You have to leave before him._ My mind said. _But if I leave before him, he will find out!_ I argued back.

_He would find out either way if you left or not. You can't avoid that._

I hated being so conflicted. Part of me wanted to go, and the other part of me said that I was just being paranoid. Although I knew that if I stayed, I would be risking this whole thing from unfurling. Even if I thought that nothing was suspicious, that was a big risk to take since Erik was unpredictable from time to time.

_You have to go – You even have the perfect dress to wear!_ I knew that was true. It all worked out now that I thought of it – Erik gave me a new dress just in time. How convenient. . ._Although I still need a mask – I can't leave without a mask – this __**is**__ a masquerade, after all. . ._Also, even if it was or wasn't a masquerade, I would have needed a mask to wear. People wouldn't know who I was, and they would be curious. So wearing a mask, I would blend in as one of many. I wouldn't blend in from Erik though. I knew that he would recognize me in my vibrant red dress that he gave me himself. But perhaps he _needed_ to know that I was there. Would my presence hesitate his actions at all? Would he stop? I wasn't sure, but I knew that I had to go.

_I still need a mask._ I thought. I then remembered that Erik had masks all over the place. Looking back at it, I recalled seeing several displayed around his organ and what not. The only problem was that they would probably be too big. What I really needed was the Don Juan mask. At least then I could tie it in the back and make it fit. I just had to leave at the right time. But how could I leave subtly? I had to somehow find a way to leave without him knowing.

For a very long time, I paced back and forth in the swan room, waiting for the perfect chance. I knew that I still had quite a bit of time before I had to leave. . .Depending on when he would leave. . .I kept peeking from behind the curtain, waiting for him to leave the room for even a moment. That was all I needed. I only needed a moment to grab the mask, and leave.

I felt a little guilty for leaving without even telling him, but I had to. _He probably won't even know._ I thought. _After all, it's not like he's just going to come in here and say that he's gonna go crash the party. He'll leave without even telling you. . .He's sneaky p That's what makes him the Phantom. It's also what makes him so unpredictable. _

For many hours, I heard Erik play the organ. I swore that he had to have been playing since the night before. I was baffled that he wasn't exhausted by then. Several times I grew drowsy while listening to the monotone notes ring from the organ continually for several hours. A few times I heard a snip it of Don Juan before it blended into another melody. That itself proved to me that Don Juan Triumphant hadn't been abandoned as I had thought earlier.

I was surprised that he never once came in, curious of why I hadn't emerged from the swan room in hours. I had crept out and visited with him that morning, but eventually slipped back into my room to plan. I think he must had simply dismissed it, and decided not to bother me about it. He probably thought that I merely wanted quiet time by reading one of the many books he possessed, writing or merely sleeping in – anything that might have brought peace, quiet, and isolation from any humanly interaction. Whatever it was that he believed, he seemed understanding about it.

Also, it wasn't uncommon to him that I would spend very much time writing. He didn't once ask me why I wanted paper and pen, not desiring to hover over me about it. He merely lent me paper – very much in fact, without any hesitation of running out (since he always seemed to have a never ending sea of papers), and a pen to write.

Many would have been curious to read what it was that I was writing, but no one, not a single soul, would be allowed to read it. . .No one but my family. . .I only would've wanted them to read it – no one else. It would have made me go into a fit of anger and cower over the stack of papers in defense like a stubborn child if anyone tried to read it. . .Perhaps I would burst into a fit of furious tears, but I certainly didn't want to test it. This was a sensitive topic – just as sensitive as Erik's mask. Erik was defensive over his mask as I was over what I wrote for hours on end.

It was not a diary, nor a story. Only my family would have been allowed to read the letters that I wrote for them. Yes, they were letters. . .Letters that they would never receive. . .

I only wrote them because I was homesick. It somehow unlocked a joyful sensation to write their names and merely unfold my thoughts and feelings into a letter as thought they were reading it. Really, it was very much like a diary, but I would start with their names instead. Although it brought some ease in my heart, it also unleashed bitter homesick tears to uncontrollably roll from my eyes in utter silence. I would remained tied up in the letters, wallowing in a faze of my past. Perhaps _all_ of us obsessed over something. This didn't feel obsessive to me at all, though. It didn't make me feel like it was an insanity issue, it felt like therapy to me. . .

Walking back and forth through the swan room, I listened to the notes from the organ begin to slow to a calmer pace, much like a soothing lullaby. A couple times the relaxing mellow notes made my eyes droop. Before I allowed it to faze me, I shook my head, trying to remain awake. _Is he __**trying**__ to make me fall asleep? Sneaky bastard. . .He __**knows**__ that having me asleep would make his little escape to the masquerade a breeze! _I thought. _Well I'll show him! _My stubborn mind declared._ I won't let my eyes close for even a moment! . . .Besides blinking, but whatever._

I knew it would be hard to fight my drooping eyelids with Erik's taunting organ music. It was a little more difficult than I thought. My eyes wandered the room for knick knacks to distract my suddenly tired mind. My eyes skidded to a stop upon a familiar stack of letters. . .The letters in _my_ hand writing.

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_I've been here now for three months, and I long ago accepted that I would never return home. . .This is my home now. . .Many things have been happening the last three months. Lately, things have been following the story line very well. I know you all never cared about the Phantom of the Opera story line like how I did, but I know that you heard me talk about it from time to time. I'm just about positive that he will go to the Masquerade party. Usually I wouldn't have been so daring, but I must do what I have to do. I have to stop him from letting everything unravel into a disaster. _

_I know that you're all probably very worried, but I want you to know that I'm alright. . .I really wish you knew that. I miss you all so __**so**__ much. I love you. I just wish that I could tell you that. I think of you all every single day. . .I just hope that you don't think of me as much as I think of you because it would tear me part to see you both miserable. I just want you to know that no matter where I am, I'm alright. . ._

I tore my eyes away before my eyes could burn, but I couldn't prevent the lump in my throat from forming. _Don't cry._ I told myself. _They wouldn't have wanted to see you like this – stay strong for them._ I did my best to swallow the lump in my throat, doing my best not to fall into the depressing depths of homesickness that lurked deep in my heart. Instead, I tried to build my very own barriers around my heart – those barriers were part of Erik's world. I wanted to drown in his world so that the pain in my heart, that came from yearning for home, could grow numb. Did I have to drown in his intoxicating world in order to escape from the pain that always lingered? I didn't ever want to forget. . .But I didn't want to be driven into pain continually. . .I just wanted my family to know that they didn't have to worry.

_Can you hear me?_ My mind wondered. _Do you know that I'm alright? Do you know that I'll always love you? Can you feel me yearning for home? I wish I knew that you knew. I'm just so sorry that it all had to happen like this. . ._

Trying to pull away from my homesickness, I desperately tried not to feel the ache in order to prevent myself from falling in and suffocating in the cold dark waters that invaded my heart. _Don't fall in. . .Otherwise you'll be swept out, never to be pulled out from the vast ocean of depression. You'll be lost, never to resurface again – it will swallow you whole before you can even utter a cry for help._

Feeling helpless, I desperately tried to find an escape strategy from the depression faze. . .Before I could be plagued by depression that beat my heart and haunted my mind that would trap me in a faze. The cold faze wouldn't loosen its grip on me. A faze that would drive me into a fit of tears. . .A faze that would always seek a way to haunt me. . .

My escape strategy was to build barriers around my own world. Those barriers were made from Erik's music. Usually, I thought that building barriers around hearts wasn't a way to face problems – it was only avoiding. Which that was very true, but this also made me realize that there were some things that needed barriers. In this case, it was to keep my sanity from slipping away. At times like this, I wanted nothing more than to hear Erik play the organ, or even the violin, in order to bring comfort to my world that grew cold and dark as pain clouded over. His music was so comforting – I wanted to drown in his world and never resurface. I didn't want to feel pain. . .And in Erik's world, I could escape from it. I didn't want to face the pain.

I stopped pacing so that my footsteps wouldn't fracture into his notes. I held my breath, anxious to hear. Silently, I waited for his music to flood into my ears, and save me from the sea of brooding.

From the main room, odd notes cascaded into my ears. The same low notes rang out continually. Never once did I hear his fingers lift away, or press any other keys. Instead, the notes continued to ring in an eerie manner until the notes began to fade slowly. I had never heard Erik play like this – it sounded very odd and I was surprised that he didn't appear to realize it. It wasn't like him at all.

I felt my eyebrows furrow in confusion before my legs brought me closer to the curtain. Brushing the curtain aside, I poked my curious head out. I felt my eyes widen at the sight before me.

Erik's dark form was hunched over the organ with his face pressed against the white keys. The weight of his head against the keys forced long, deep, and eerie notes to escape from the organ. The notes continued to carry on for a while before slowly fading into silence. His ivory mask faced my direction. The mask looked like it was barely sticking to his face – it looked as though it were the keys from the organ that held his mask in place. It was so odd to see him hunched over, face first against the organ, with is arms hanging loosely. I was utterly baffled.

_What was he doing?_

I couldn't figure out whether he was asleep, or whether he was ashamed in himself, feeling helpless and defeated by something. . .Perhaps his music? Curiously, and warily, I silently stepped out from my room and crept toward him. As I grew further, I noticed how still he remained. Once I was close enough, I took a moment to study him.

I couldn't help but noticed that his black wig was slightly unkempt from lying his face against the keys of the organ. I suppressed an amused giggle at his messy wig. He remained still like a statue. . .That was until I saw how his back rose and fell from deep breaths, indicating that he was asleep. That did make sense after all. I swore that Erik had to have been playing the organ since the night before. Who _wouldn't_ have crashed by then?

Most people would have been worried to see someone awake for that long, although it appeared that he did that all the time. _Erik's just a night owl._ My mind teased slightly. _Well, at least he's still getting __**some**__ sleep. . ._I thought, doing my best to look at it in a positive way._ Let him sleep – he looks exhausted._

I also knew that this was my chance. It was the perfect moment to quickly leave for the masquerade before he would wake up. I was about to quickly take off when a thought popped up into my mind.

"Oops, can't forget the mask. . ." I muttered under my breath. My eyes hastily scanned the lair, looking for a familiar black face mask. Sure enough, nearby the miniature stage that was set up to look very much like Don Juan, I spotted the mask there, right where I expected it to be.

I tip toed over to the mini stage, and carefully lifted the sooth mask into my hands. Holding my breath, I silently prayed that I would get it to stay on my face. Turning it over, I found the black ties to hold it in place. I silently sighed out in relief, glad to have found them. I knew that the mask would be rather big on me, but at least I had ties to tie it tight enough to remain on.

Turning around, I glanced at Erik's sleeping form, almost afraid to have suddenly found him awake. Although he was still asleep, and I knew it was time. . .It was time for me to stop Don Juan's Triumphant.

. . .

**That's the end of this chapter!**

**So what's gonna happen now? Erik threw out the score in the last chapter! Does that mean that Clare is wasting her time? What will happen at the masquerade? You'll find out soon! Soon enough, many things will unravel.**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**


	30. Masquerade

**Hey guys!**

**Well, I noticed that I didn't get so many reviews for my last chapter. *Tear* But hopefully you will all like this one. **

**But thank you to those who did review! You're all awesome!**

**Zombitude**** has been throwing out some suggestions here and there, so I'd like to thank her for that! You're awesome for that!**

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, or its music. I only own my OC.**

**Enjoy!**

**. . .**

The masquerade was like no other thing I had ever experienced. It was superb, buzzing with music in all of its glory. Colors of gold, black and white spun from all around, dressed in jewels and sparkles to twinkle under the many candles that lit the entire Opera House. The Opera House had never looked so magnificent. This night was dressed in a majestic sensation with the many exotic masks and clothing from every direction.

It was elegant yet childish all at once. Perhaps it was because this was the one special occasion that gave mature people a chance to dress vogue, or perhaps rather oddly instead, like a child on Halloween. Everyone looked so joyful and. . .Quite drunk.

What else was I supposed to expect? When there were parties much like this, there were drinks. Not everyone was drunk. Some appeared to be a little tipsy or buzzed, but others seemed to have a clear head. . .Others were smashed. There were a few that it was obvious that they were drunk, for a strong aroma of alcohol followed them like a cloud, and they were laughing hysterically. There were very many who were drunk, but those who were, mingled close to the drinks.

I could only imagine how the world looked to those who had already had a drink or more. When they spun in circles, they probably saw colors smear together into one. I would have gotten sick if I were them, but they all seemed very merry.

_Better to see them happy drunks than angry ones. . ._

I felt odd to be the only one dressed in red. My outfit was so vivid in the crowds, and others thought so too, for quite a few eyes followed, and heads turned in my direction. I was glad that no one could see me blushing under Erik's black mask. After a while, not many paid attention to me, which relieved me greatly.

The masquerade was os amazing that I found myself merely wanting to enjoy it rather than carefully observing, waiting for Erik to arrive. I found myself smiling excitedly, feeling giddy just to be there. It was nice to be out of Erik's lair for once. Three months of isolation made me feel a little timid around those who weren't Erik, but hiding under a mask, I blended in, and I, myself, felt joyful too. Erik's mask felt like a shield – protecting me from curious people stopping me and asking questions. No one would know that I was a new face around here. And with that, I felt more relaxed and at ease.

"_Masquerade! Paper faces on parade, masquerade, hide your face so the world will never find you," _Everyone sang. _"Masquerade! Every face a different shade, masquerade, look around, there's another mask behind you."_ I couldn't help but to grin at all of this. It was breath taking to be there. It was so marvelous, and the familiar masquerade song had me smiling.

_Alright, wait for Erik to show up. But mean while, blend in._ I told myself. I had no idea how to dance like everyone else, but I didn't have to. I would stay close to the walls, stroll around, and I would be fine.

As I tried to squeeze through the crowd, a boy caught my gloved hand, taking me by surprise. _Perhaps I wouldn't sneak by unnoticed as easily as I had hoped._ The boy was about my age, from what I could tell from under his black and white mask. I smiled shyly as he grinned sweetly at me. With my black lacy gloved hand in his hand, he spun me in a circle. Golden colors swirled around me before I felt him release my hand. I nearly stumbled but I stopped before I could get too dizzy. My giggle couldn't be heard through the music filled air.

_"Masquerade! Grinning yellows, spinning reds, masquerade, take your fill let the spectacle astound you. Masquerade! Burning glances, turning heads, masquerade, stop and stare at the sea of smiles around you."_ As I cheekily looked around, I spotted several familiar faces. In a small balcony, I saw Reyer standing there, acting as though he was conducting. Enjoying myself, I began singing along with everyone.

_"Masquerade," _Everyone sang in a more hushed tone. _"Seething shadows, breathing lies, masquerade, you can fool any friend who ever knew you,"_ The volume rose again as everyone sang merrily. _"Masquerade! Leering satyrs, peering eyes, masquerade, run and hide but a face will still pursue you."_

I slipped over to a more quiet area where I could observe. In the middle stair case, I saw a group of familiar people. There I saw the managers with a couple of women linking arms with them. There was also Carlotta and Piangi with Madame Giry and Meg in the back of the group. Over the roar of singing, I couldn't make out their words, but I still knew what they were singing.

My eyes darted through the sea of people. I froze when I spotted both Christine and Raoul in one of the dim hallways. There I saw Christine holding up the engagement ring to Raoul that was strung on a necklace. Christine was in a light pink dress. . .Probably the only other color here besides the others who wore gold, black and white. . .Plus me, but I hardly counted myself, anyways. I couldn't help but notice that Raoul looked like he was dressed for _Thriller_ from the Michael Jackson video. . .Except Raoul's outfit was navy instead of red.

I couldn't hear them either, but I could read their lips. Even then, I knew it all by heart. I rolled my eyes slightly and turned away once I saw Raoul lean in to kiss Christine. It was irrelevant to watch since I already knew what was going on. Instead, I decided to find somewhere to sit and wait for Erik to come.

I found a quiet place to sit in the dim hallways. _Well, there's nothing else to do but people watch_. I thought._ Even if it sounds a little stalkerish. . ._

As I looked around, I discovered many interesting costumes. None the less, it looked the same from the movie. I smiled weakly, recalling how my friends and I used to point out the odd costumes and laugh. Sure enough, it was all the same.

On the stair case, there was a man who looked very much like batman. He also appeared to have a friend who was almost identical besides having white polka dots on his costume. . .I saw two cross-dressers. . .One man had a mask that looked a lot like a clock. . .One lady had cotton balls all over her dress. Last but not least, there was one guy that I had always referred to as, "_The Epically Burnt Marsh-Mellow Man"_. He was the guy in the ridiculous black and white fluffy outfit. What was he supposed to be anyways? A marsh-mellow with very scrupulous burnt marks to make a checkered print? I was surprised that he didn't fall over and have a heat stroke in that thing. . .

I sat there for quite a while, waiting for the grand finale. My telling of when it was time was based off of both Raoul and Christine. I knew that once they finished dancing through the entire Opera House, they would come back near the stair case and kiss. From there, there would be the final number in Masquerade, and Erik would appear.

I waited there for quite a while, watching others dancing from the corridors. A couple of times men came up, offering to dance with me. I was flattered, but I kindly turned down the offers because I knew that it was almost time. The same colors danced and swirled all around me until two certain colors caught my attention, make me scoot to the edge of my seat eagerly. Pink and navy gleefully danced together – Christine and Raoul. They twirled together in a circle, smiling lovingly at each other.

_It's time!_

I nearly sprang out of my chair impatiently, but did it ever so gracefully. I only had seconds before I wouldn't be able to reach the top of the stair case. Only seconds before the sea of people blocked off the route. _I should have done this sooner!_ I mentally scolded myself.

My only option was to race up there like a childish freak. Although as my eyes darted around, I realized that I was blend right in with a small group that was already trotting over to the stairs. They all held hands as they ran over, and I lingered close behind as we passed by Christine and Raoul, as the two lovers leaned in to kiss. I probably would have looked odd to be running along with these strangers who didn't know me, but they paid no attention to me, which worked out nicely.

Everyone was lining up very quickly at the stairs. Once I reached it, I branched away from the group. I then raced up the stairs, taking two or three at a time. I narrowly managed to squeeze past the sea of people that gathered around. The song was building up as I ran up the stairs, heading for the left stair case. Somehow, I managed to reach the top just in time. I stood in the clearing – the same spot where Erik would appear – only _seconds_ from here.

My heart was pounding, eager to see him. _What was __**wrong**__ with me?_ I felt like an impatient mess, standing there. My head turned in every direction, trying to think where he could come from.

_He's the Phantom. It's gonna be difficult because it's not like he's gonna use the front door._

I knew that was true, but I couldn't cease my paranoid state – how could I _not_ search frantically? My heart was in my throat as the grand finale came.

"_Masquerade! Paper faces on parade, masquerade, hide your face so the world will never find you. Masquerade! Every face a different shade, masquerade, look around there's another mask behind you. . ."_

My eyes scanned the room. It was so odd to watch it from above. Down below, I saw both Christine and Raoul sharing laughter together. They both looked so happy and in love.

"_Masquerade! Burning glances, turning heads, masquerade, stop and stare at the sea of smiles around you. . ."_ By now, I was anxiously looking around for him. _Any second, any second. . ._

_"Masquerade! Grinning yellows, spinning reds, masquerade, take your fill, let the spectacle astound you. Masquerade! Leering satyrs, peering eyes," _My head shipped around, my mouth opened in a soundless gasp, once the unfamiliar verse touched my ears. _They haven't been interrupted?! Erik is supposed to be here by now!_ I could do nothing more than stand there dumbfounded, and let them finish their song.

"_Masquerade, run and hide, but a face will still pursue you. . ."_ Shocked, no thoughts crossed my mind except one. . .

_Erik isn't here. . ._

_. . ._

**That's the end of this chapter! I know, it might not seem super exciting, but just wait to see what happens next!**

**Will Erik EVER come to the masquerade? You'll find out soon. But AHH, I altered the story line again! I love doing that! Mwhahaha!**

**Please, please, pllllleeeeeeaaaaaaaassse review! And hey, I'm almost up to 300 reviews! Help me reach that goal, guys! . . .And hopefully more. Please? *Puppy eyes* For a hug from Erik? I know you all love that. XP**

**Thanks for reading!**


	31. Look Away

**Hey guys!**

**Wow, thank you all so much for your reviews! Erik got 17 hugs! And I would like to thank ****tuttycute**** for their awesome review! Thank you!**

**Well, yesterday I went to a Big Country concert – their first concert to America in YEARS! They're from Scotland, and I love their music! For those who haven't heard their music before, check them out! P.S. They're NOT country.**

**I named this chapter after one of my very favorite songs by Big Country.**

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, or any of Big Country's music! *Pouts* I only own my OC, Clare!**

**Enjoy!**

**. . .**

**Erik's POV**

It had been quiet in Clare's room for many hours.

_Perhaps she is asleep. . ._I thought, aside from the fact that I, myself, had fallen asleep a moment ago. I knew that the past day of neglecting sleep wasn't good, but I could not cease writing. A new melody haunted my mind at night, urging me to write down the notes before it could escape my mind. I wanted my fingers to discover the new melody upon the keys. I had heard the melody in my mind, but I was eager to hear it with my very own ears.

The new song came once I threw out the Don Juan Triumphant score. I found that Clare had given me inspiration to write something very new. Before in the past, my notes were very sensual, but now, something else, something that I didn't ever think had existed deep within myself was now revealed. Clare unlocked a feeling that had hidden away deep within my heart. As I thought of her, the same haunting song would echo deep within my mind. Once I had written down the motes, I had spent a good day or so, keeping full attention focused on playing his new beautiful melody.

I had never played a song quite like this before. The melody didn't possess any words. Only notes. This song had an odd mixture of many emotions poured all together.

A calm, slow paced melody came to mind as my mind revealed to me of the details of her I drank in the last time my eyes discovered in her appearance that had somehow gone unnoticed before.

_Her eyes were not green, they were emerald green. I could just about see the dark flecks of green that would glint in her eyes from time to time._

_Her long hair had beautiful waves that cascaded down to the middle of her back. Her hair was considered auburn, but appeared more red to me than an even mix of brown and red._

_Her skin was a soft, ivory white, color._

_Her appearance did not resemble a child, but a woman. . .That also went for her figure as well. . ._

The soft, calm melody, would always subside and revolutionize into Don Juan when my mind would wander further into the depths upon the fact of how grown up Clare looked. The innocent melody would always subside in my selfishness upon _wanting_ her in such a way. I was always overwrought and repulsed by these new thoughts of her. It wasn't right. . .She was so much younger than I was.

Every time my melody changed into Don Juan for a short second, I would always push away the new desires I felt, and tried to stay on top of the song. Apalled that Don Juan ever dared mix into my new song, I would quickly change it, and return to the original melody.

Not only did I play the melody based off of my admiration in her features or sickening desires I felt, but also my enjoyment of merely being with her. I often found myself admiring, and yearning, every minute I spent with her. Whether it was listening to her talk, or hugging her when she cried, I found every moment very special. . .And every special moment that was shared between us was shown in my new melody.

_Admit it, you love her,_ my mind insisted.

No, that was ridiculous.

_Love simply does not work so quickly._ I told myself._ It takes __**years**__ to love an individual. _

Perhaps I was attracted to Clare, but certainly not in love. All of my life, I had been learning what love truly was. I quickly learned that it takes a lifetime to find and understand the true meaning of being in love. Even if I _did_ love Clare, Clare was far too young to understand love. After all, it's not like she had loved me for years. . .

I had always heard that being in love was when one cared for an individual far more than themselves. That was increasingly difficult for me because not only had I hated myself from the start, but over the many years of isolation and murdering, I felt more bitter and loathsome towards myself. Although what else could I do? I wanted to remain hidden from the world, but intruders would come into my home for many different reasons.

Some came to turn me in, for some of the first murders that occurred due to self defense. But who would believe a hideous gargoyle? Many people wanted to kill a monster much like me, or perhaps throw the monster in a cage to poke and whip in front of an audience for their entertainment, as they had done to me when I was too young and weak to escape at the time. There had been a great deal of physical violence paid to me my whole life all because of my wretched face. This was what caused my hatred towards man. . .Towards the world. . .Not many tried to listen besides Antoinette and Clare. Although no one else tried, therefore I had little respect for them.

Why couldn't the world see that I just wanted to be left be? If the world rejected me, then that was fine.

_Then just leave me alone. Don't come into my home. Don't try to take my mask. Don't do anything – just leave me be!_

I respected those who left me be to recluse beneath the Opera House. Although those who tried to invade, earned a death sentence from me. . ._Or_ if any of them tried to harm Clare – my only true friend.

_The one you __**love**__. _My mind corrected.

I shook my head at that thought as I went to Clare's room.

"Clare?" I asked as I waited for some sort of response outside of her room, that I never seemed to receive.

"Clare?" I asked again, as I cautiously crept into her room. It was very quiet in her room, and it was far too early for her to already be drowsy. My eyes widened in utter astonishment to find the room empty. Panic leaped into my heart as my eyes hastily scanned every corner of the room.

_She's gone!_

I couldn't understand how she managed to leave under my knowing. I was very observant – so aware of everything. Not just anyone could sneak by the Opera Ghost. While most of my mind was clouded by panic and confusion, a faint voice in the back of my mind calmly gave an answer.

_She left while you were asleep._

Once that message crossed my mind clearly, a new fact dawned on me that made the world screech to a halt. A breath ceased in my throat as the truth came upon me, and settled uneasily.

_She left. . .She's gone. . ._

The same unforgiving, unwelcoming pain that was brought on the night on the roof had resurfaced. It came unexpectedly, since I had almost been convinced that I would never feel pain again after Clare aided my scarred heart. Although there I stood, feeling life fleeing from my heart, and allowing coldness to invade.

_She's gone._

Nothing in the entire world had prepared me for this. Perhaps I had wished not to feel pain again, or had forgotten that it was possible, but either way, the dreadful agony of being alone had been surfaced and spat at me. What had I done wrong?

_Everything!_ My mind hissed. _You proved that you were a monster from the start! She's been trying to escape all along! It has been her goal to leave this entire time!_

_Then she __**should**__ have left! _I screamed back on the inside._ But she stayed! She stayed even when I was in ruins deep inside! She stayed long enough for me to begin to care deeply for her!_

I could feel a lump beginning to form in my throat as my mind raced with frantic thoughts. Despair quickly flooded into my heart. I couldn't believe that all of this had happened.

_You're only hurt because you loved her. _My mind growled. _If you didn't love her, then her absence wouldn't have bothered you one bit._

I shook my head by this thought.

_No. I may have been attracted to her, and cared deeply, but love comes much later. . ._

As I frantically scanned the room, my eyes fell upon a stack of papers on the desk. I felt my eyebrows furrow together under my mask as my eyes locked upon the papers. Was this why she always asked for paper and pen? What had she been writing this entire time? I stepped closer until I could make out the words on the first page I could see. . .

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_I've been here now for three months, and I long ago accepted that I would never return home. . .This is my home now. . .Many things have been happening the last three months. Lately, things have been following the story line very well. I know you all never cared about the Phantom of the Opera story line like how I did, but I know that you heard me talk about it from time to time. I'm just about positive that he will go to the Masquerade party. Usually I wouldn't have been so daring, but I must do what I have to do. I have to stop him from letting everything unravel into a disaster._

_. . ._

**Clare's POV**

_I couldn't believe it. Erik wasn't there._

_He was supposed to be here, but he's not. . .Why isn't he here?_

_The Phantom was never late. That would be ridiculous. Surely, something kept him from coming. . .Had he merely changed his mind? What would have changed his mind to begin with?_

_You. Maybe he's falling for you instead._

_I shook my head at that ridiculous thought. _

_Impossible. He loves Christine far too much to have simply lost interest. He would love her to his dying day. . .Literally. . ._

_I pushed away the hopeful feelings I felt for him, as I tried to sought out he possible scenarios. Perhaps he's still asleep. . .Although if that were the case, he should have woken up and came here according to the storyline. . ._

_At this point, I couldn't keep up with all of the different possibilities. I decided that it was just because I was tired and needed rest. Although my eyes felt heavy, my heart desired to stay just for a little while longer, even though the Masquerade was over._

_Just a little while longer. I thought, yawning. After all, it was the first time being outside of Erik's lair in three months. _

_I sat in a chair for a long time, unmoving. My feet were aching in an uncomfortable pair of shoes. My feet throbbed from the many hours of standing. Indeed, this had been a long night. A night wasted in waiting for a certain Opera Ghost who never arrived. Part of me spat names at myself like stupid, or moron. The other part of me tried to make the situation sound a little positive. _

_Well, hey, at least you got out for a little while, right?_

_I watched everyone filing out to return home. Several lingered a little longer to say farewells to friends within the corridors. The Opera House that was vibrant not long ago, now felt empty and quiet. Earlier, I couldn't even hear myself giggle over the singing. Now, I could easily hear a whisper from across the room. Everyone seemed to have had the time of their lives, while I had a great disappointment._

_Well, you still had fun while it lasted. My mind pointed out._

_Masses of candles slowly died out from around me, leaving the corner of the room dark. A thick trail of smoke rose into the air once the flames withered. Though the room was growing dim, candles remained lit close to the corridors. With my eyelids slipping shut, I jumped away from my thoughts when a voice called out from below._

_"Mademoiselle, are you waiting for someone?" Firmin asked curiously in his thick French accent. My eyes snapped open once his voice broke through the silence. He stood by the corridors, ready to lock up the Opera House. I looked around, realizing that everyone else had already left._

_I was surprised that Firmin was still there. I thought that him and Andre would have left a while ago with the two younger ladies. . .I assumed that they were probably waiting for him in a carriage. . .Now that I thought of it, it was always Firmin and Andre who locked up the Opera House. They were the managers, after all._

_"No, monsieur." I replied as I stood up, feeling my legs ache. I ignored my stiff muscles as I quickly walked down the stairs. My footsteps tapped throughout the whole room, as though it was the loudest thing in the silent world, until I reached the corridors. Firmin smiled kindly at me, and allowed me to step outside first before locking the doors behind us._

_Once I stepped outside, I realized just how cold it was. A shiver raced up my spine, and my hands quickly flew up to rub my bare arms. Curse it being winter. . .I had been in Erik's lair for so long thata the seasonal weather almost felt foreign to me._

_Carriages were departing as Firmin turned to me. _

_"Have a good evening, mademoiselle." He said, with a puff of air dancing in the cold air, as he gave me a kind smile. I gently returned the smile._

_"Merci." I said. I would have wished him a good evening as well, but he turned to stroll off to his carriage. Once he loaded in, the carriage pulled out and left. Once it grew quiet, I sighed, and looked up at the starry sky. The sky was filled with small twinkling stars. I stared at the sky for a while, admiring its majestic beauty. I no longer felt as weary as I had before, as I took some time to enjoy being outside._

_I would have stayed longer, but it was bitterly cold. I shivered and rubbed my arms once more, hoping to feel some relief, but found none. Once I turned, deciding to head back inside where it was warm, I froze upon realizing something._

_I'm locked out!_

_"Shit!" I cursed out loud, not caring since no one else was around to hear me. How was I supposed to get inside now? I felt like a complete idiot by then, and I was mentally face-palming. If there were an audience around me, they would be laughing at my stupidity._

_See what happens when you're tired? You don't think through simple stuff, moron. My mind taunted, as I looked around, hoping to find another way in._

_Erik has many secret entrances – I'm sure I could find one around here somewhere. I thought as I began walking towards the back._

_There were no lights around, so the side of the Opera House was very dark. Only the moon light helped guide e through the dark pathway. As my eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness, a heavy hand suddenly fell on my shoulder._

_. . ._

_**AHH, cliff hanger!**_

_**Yes, I know, this was a long, boring chapter, but it was necessary! You'll see for my next chapter! I actually already have the next one written, so I'll post it here in a few days – so you all get an early update here pretty soon! Yay!**_

_**I'm really proud – I've reached over 400 pages in my notebook! I can't believe that this story right here, is over 400 pages! Ouchy, my hand hurts from writing so much! Yes, I'm nice enough to HAND write this and THEN type it! Yippy! I like the idea of having a hand written copy because I'm already so used to writing in a notebook, but it's also a nice back up for in case if my computer crashes, or something of that nature.**_

_**Well, thanks for reading! Please review! It would mean a lot to me!**_


	32. Whispers in the Dark

**Told you guys that I'd be back early, right? Yes I did!**

**And WOW! I've never gotten so many reviews in just one or two days! My goodness, it made me feel so loved! *Gets emotional* Thank you all for your awesome reviews! I swear, it was a new record of most reviews received all at once for me! **

**This chapter is named after ****Whispers in the Dark**** by ****Skillet****. **

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera or any songs by Skillet. I only own my OC, Clare!**

**Enjoy! **

. . .

Fear leaped into my heart, and I whirled around, not able to suppress a frightened gasp. I hadn't expected to be face to face with Joseph Buquet, but there he was, looking down at me with a drunken sly smile. A sickly cold feeling of fear crawled into my heart. I knew this wouldn't be good.

"I-I know you." Buquet slurred as he stepped closer. I staggered back, trying to escape from his invading presence. I almost felt frozen with fear. I knew that Buquet had a history of harming women – especially when he was drunk. A gut wrenching feeling twisted deep within me when the strong aroma of alcohol radiated from Buquet, snaking around me.

My attempt to scream suddenly grew dry in my throat. I was ready to force out a scream for help but he never gave me a chance.

Stepping closer, his hand seized my mask. His fingers curled around the edges of my mask – _Erik's_ mask – and his fingers tangled into my hair. A panicked cry escaped from me, as I tried to shove him away. In the process, Buquet pulled his hand away, ripping the mask off of my face. I felt the ties in the back rip apart, and cold air invaded my face. Once I was free from his threatening hands, I wasted no time. I whirled around, ready to flee from the spot. Although before I could even take a step, an iron grip wrapped around my upper arm and yanked me back. I screamed when I crashed into his body.

"Get away from me!" My scream bounced off of the wall and onto nearby buildings. I prayed that someone, _anyone_ would recognize a cry of help. "_Help!"_

I always had a very sharp, unbearably loud scream, and for once, it was very useful. Sucking in a deep breath, I released the loudest scream I could muster. The scream quaked in my lungs and ripped from my throat, escaping through my mouth. It was ear piercing, and my scream quickly carried through, bouncing off walls and plummeting back down on us, almost mockingly to Buquet. It seemed as though the walls had heightened the volume of my voice.

My scream must have rattled Buquet's skull because he quickly released me, groaning in pain. Once his hand loosened from my arm, I felt blood rush through, bringing feeling back to my arm. It seemed like my feet couldn't run fast enough because Buquet grabbed me once more.

I nearly crumbled to the ground, but he had an iron grip on both of my arms by then. My heart pounded in terror and my legs trembled. I tried to rip and thrash away from his grip, but it was useless.

"_Phantom!"_ I screamed, feeling a lump forming in my throat. My eyes were wide with horror, and tears sprang to my eyes.

_No, no! This can't be happening!_

Buquet shoved a hand against my mouth, cutting off my cries.

"That scream I recognize as well. I _saw_ you that night. You're alliance with the Phantom – I _knew_ I recognized you." He hissed, as he leaned in close to me. I balled my free hand into a fist as his breath, that had a stench of alcohol, brushed my face. Before his face could get too close to mine, I swung my fist at him as hard as I could, not caring whether I broke my hand or not in the process. He yelled, and his hand flew up, covering his swollen eye in pain.

Angry, he shoved me to the ground, and it felt like the corners of the world tipped over. My head smacked against the wall, and the unforgiving ground knocked the wind out of me. I felt dazed for a moment, but my mind was still panicking. My stomach twisted in fearful agony.

_I have to get away, or else I'm gonna die!_

I could feel tears leaking down my face as I desperately tried to find a way to escape. I was so terribly scared that I couldn't think straight. Buquet stood over me, smiling sadistically. My blood ran cold in my veins as horror took over completely in me. I felt like a cornered animal, trembling before its predator.

"_Erik!"_ I shrieked, feeling utterly hopeless.

_This is it. _I thought, horrified._ I'm gonna die!_

Suddenly, through my eyes that were clouded with tears, a blanket of darkness swooped down in between us. For a moment, I thought that I had gone unconscious. Perhaps it would be the best if I did. I didn't want to experience what Buquet intended to do. I just wanted death to claim me then before being tortured any longer. Although as my panicked eyes wandered through the short daze I was caught in, I recognized a familiar figure clothed in black.

_Erik._

He was there. He was really there.

Erik towered over Buquet, but not for long. Erik fastened his hands around Buquet's throat before lifting him right off of his feet. Fear was quite visible in Buquet's face. He looked as though he was face to face with death. Erik's movements were very hast and harsh. He slammed Buquet against the wall, never loosening his death grip from his throat.

Buquet gagged and helplessly clawed at Erik's locked hands. Buquet's face grew red, and his eyes were practically bulging out of his skull. Erik's jaw was clenched tight, and a very noticeable vein traced his neck. The look in Erik's eyes were very murderous. . .I had never seen him look so infuriated until now.

Buquet struggled to get away, but was no match against the Phantom. Erik's hands continued to tighten around Buquet's throat until his black leather gloves were skin tight over his knuckles.

After long seconds slipped by, so did Buquet's life. His struggle became weak, and he went limp. It wasn't until then, did Erik release him. Buquet's lifeless body crumbled on the ground, and Erik stood there, heaving heavily with breaths. He looked like he wanted to see Buquet _burn. Wither and die._ But he could only watch him lie there unmoving.

Erik's black cloak twisted around his tall figure as his attention snapped to me. His jaw was still clenched tight, and his chest rose and fell rapidly with seething breaths. I had to admit, he looked like an animal that had viciously attacked and killed. I had been so aghast by everything – everything that occurred all at once – that my true emotions didn't surface until now. I was so conflicted and torn of what I truly felt about all of this.

Part of me was horrified that Erik murdered a man before my very eyes. Although the other part of me was still in shock of what almost happened to me, and was overcome by an overbearing relief that Erik came. Through all of the overwhelming emotions, I couldn't stop tears from leaking out of my eyes.

Erik and I stared at each other for a very long time. I lied on the ground, half propped up against the wall. I was too stunned to do anything but lie there frozen, struggling to choke down the thick lump in my throat. Erik's piercing blue eyes searched my green eyes. He searched my eyes desperately, as though he was hoping to find truth behind of what had just occurred. I could just about see him asking; _Are you alright? Did he hurt you? Are you injured at all? Are you afraid of me, now?_

I still couldn't find it in me to do anything, but look at his eyes. Quickly, I could see remorse pooling into his eyes. Remorse in what? He had told me from the beginning that if Buquet tried hurting me, he would kill him. Perhaps he merely regretted that I had to see all of that.

Only moments ago, I saw an untamed animal, although now, there was a man who was overcome by emotions as well. Only moments ago, I wouldn't dare stop screaming for help. . .And within desperate measures, I screamed for Erik, not even sure whether he would hear or not. It was the first time I had addressed him by his real name. . .Moments ago, I screamed. Although now, I remained silent with a dry throat, breathing uneasy breaths from the traumatic event that had almost occurred only five minutes ago.

I felt frozen with shock. My mind raced, and many emotions mixed together in my heart. What was there to say or do? I couldn't get my head, or my heart, wrapped around being upset by Erik's actions, or grateful.

"E-Erik. . ." I breathed out. It sounded like a whimper or plea to my own ears. Once my desperate tone reached his ears, tears suddenly filled his eyes. Now he breathed heavy to control sobs that rapidly built up inside of him. It tore me apart to see the traumatic look that filled his eyes. He looked frantic with grief filled tears. It was so heartrending. . .A sickly distressed sensation looked to have torn him apart, deep within reach of his soul. . .Horror seemed to reflect in both of our glassy eyes. Nothing felt possible to comfort the torment that riddled both of our souls. We were both traumatized by what had happened, but neither of us could find any words to utter at that moment.

With nothing more to say, Erik hastily came to me, with tears overflowing his eyes, and a face twisted in distressful agony. His black cape twisted around my body, just like how darkness encloses around the world when one falls under, as Erik scooped me into his arms. I wanted to fall under, and allow the darkness to keep me hidden from the things that haunted my mind. . .Even if its numb blanket could only sooth me for a short time. . .Although I could not fall under, I could only cling to Erik and cry. It wasn't until then, did I realize that I had been shaking this whole time.

With me in Erik's secure arms, Erik quickly took me away from the spot, as though we had never been there, although it would always be there deep within the dark corners of our mind.

Erik was not an angel that came to claim me once death had. He was one that came to save me from death ever claiming me.

. . .

**Oh my gosh, Buquet tried to rape Clare! Good thing that Erik came!**

**Darn. . .Some of you figured out my plan. You're all smartical! So you earn a gold star! YAY!**

**Alright, enough of that!**

**So it looks like Erik should've killed Buquet when he got the chance, huh? Buquet only stuck around to cause problems and then get killed anyways. Yep, some characters should just stay dead, or else this happens. Not sayin that murdering is good, but ya know. . .Buquet started it. . .And so he dies for it.**

**I could totally see Erik doing this, in order to save Clare. Very, very, Erik like. . .**

**Well, share your thoughts and feelings of this chapter through reviews! Thanks for reading!**


	33. Here In My Arms

**Hey guys!**

**Sorry it took me a little longer than usual. I was struggling with some editing and re-arranging paragraphs and what-not for this chapter. Plus, also wondering where exactly to end it, because I originally never planned out how this scene would go! Well, I ****_did, _****but I just pretty much go along with it! Fun fun.**

**Well, I wanna thank those who did review, although, I didn't quite get as many reviews for my last chapter as I usually do. . .So PLEASE, guys, please review. I really appreciate each and every review. They make my day, and keep me going.**

**This chapter is named after a lyric from Enjoy the Silence from Depeche Mode.**

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, or any music from Depeche Mode. I only own my OC, Clare.**

**Enjoy!**

**. . .**

**Clare's POV**

Erik wouldn't set me down for even a moment, even when we reached the tunnels that led to the lair. I was right when I had assumed that there was another pathway outside of the Opera House that led to his home. I could only imagine how many tunnels there were. . .

"Clare, are you alright?" Erik asked again for the hundredth time. "Are you injured? What did he do?" Frantic questions continued to tumble out of his mouth as he kept me held in his arms. I couldn't find anything to say but one thing.

"You. . .You killed him." I stated numbly.

I should have sounded horrified or repulsed, but instead it sounded monotone to my own ears. Erik sounded alarmed by my sudden statement.

"Of course I did!" He cried out, flustered. "He was going to hurt you, Clare! He was going to hurt you!" I could hear a terrible edge of pain in his booming voice. His frantic voice echoed through the tunnels. The tunnels were almost pitch-black besides the occasional torch that was mounted on the walls.

Though I was well into my teenage years, I had never been able to abandon my old childish fears of the dark. Ever since I was small, I had always been afraid of something emerging from the unpredictable, unfamiliar shadows to snatch me. Perhaps it was simply unknowing what lied, what lingered, in the darkness that had frightened me. It was not knowing. . .It was what I was blind to. . ._That_ was what had unnerved me. I was afraid to wander, only to be snatched and dragged under. . .

Being dragged under, just like how the cold water had swallowed me as the car sank deeper. . .The world seemed so much bigger when I had tried to desperately peer out the window through the water that tried to swallow me. . .The world was so much bigger when I was trapped in a sinking car. . .Death seemed so much bigger. . .My _fear_ had been so much bigger. That level of fear had never been touched until I felt the car plunge into the dark water. . .Until the cold water filed into my lungs. . .Until the city lights that had shown around me through the water, grew dim. . .Until the water grew back as death tried to claim me. . .

The darkness always had to taunt me so. Ever since I was little, the darkness scared me stiff. Who would've thought that I would've faced it so harshly within my last moments of being home?

As Erik carried me, my eyes frantically wandered the darkness. Why couldn't' I have out grown my childish fear of the dark?

_It's nothing really._ I would tell myself. _You just can't see what's around you. . ._

I tightened my arms around Erik's neck as I buried my face against his neck. My nose felt cold against his warm skin from being outside only moments ago. I couldn't stop the tears from burning my eyes and escaping. My tears touched his skin and soaked into the collar of his shirt.

"Oh, Clare. . .I'm so sorry that you had to see all of that happen. I'm sorry that you had to see me act like a monster, but I had to – he – he," Erik's voice trembled as he spoke. "He was going to hurt you, Clare!" He cried out in anger. "_You_, Clare! My only friend! I-I couldn't let _anyone_ hurt my only friend!" He ranted in a thick voice.

His voice rose in anger and hurt as he carried me. His deafening voice echoed down the tunnels, ringing in my ears. I winced as my head throbbed. The tunnels had heightened the volume of everything - from the squeaks of rats to the drops of water. It wasn't until then, did I realize just how much my head ached.

I knew that it was from when I had smacked my head against the wall. My hand throbbed form when I had punched Buquet. . .That was the second injury to the same hand within the last three months. The marks that Buquet had imprinted on my arms felt tender. At the time, I was so terror stricken that all of the pain that I should have felt didn't surface until now.

Erik's pace had been brisk with an impatient eagerness to return me to the safety of his lair. His pace that was expeditious, was driven with a raging tantrum-like manner. Although through the angry storm he was in, he also struggled with overflowing tears of remorse the whole way back. I couldn't figure out whether he was mainly mad or sad. The two unbearably strong emotions practically tore him apart.

It wasn't until he grew tired of his pace, did he stop. Erik abruptly stopped in his tracks. Right then, I realized that his body trembled with uneven breaths. I could _hear_ a sob on the brink of his breaths.

Bowing forward, he maneuvered his body in a way as he carefully unraveled his arms from my body. My feet met the damp ground as I tried to stand. My legs were trembling and stiff all at once. The warmth from Erik's body fled as he carefully set me down. Instead, cold air invaded and touched the bare sweat that clung onto me. I could feel the cold sweat of fear tamper near my temple, soaking my hair. I couldn't shake the fear of what could have happened. I knew that I was extremely fortunate that Erik had came just in time. Thinking of the terrible things that could have happened, sent tears to roll down my cheeks.

It was all my fault. I never should have gone to the Masquerade.

_You stupid girl._ My mind hissed. _You see what happens when you try to do the right thing? You become the hopeless, pathetic damsel in distress! You moron. You almost got yourself killed!_

I felt my chin tremble as I accepted the fact that it really was all my fault.

_You got yourself locked out, for crying out loud!_ My mind spat. _And perhaps if you were more aware of your surroundings, you never would have gotten in this mess!_

It was true. It was my fault. Because of my stupid actions, I nearly got myself killed. On top of all of that, Erik was forced to come and save me, which meant killing Buquet. . .Buquet's death was my fault! I caused a death because I hadn't been well aware of my surroundings!

Feeling tormented, I clamped my eyes shut in agony as tears seeped from them. By then, I couldn't get a hold of the uncontrollable tears that continued to pour down my cheeks.

Erik's hands dropped onto my shoulders. He gently yet firmly gripped onto my shoulders as he turned me so I could face him. I didn't bother to turn my face away to hide my tears. I knew it was pointless. We had both already seen one another's tears that night. Our distress was nothing to hide. I felt pity swell in my heart when I saw the tears that invaded his dark blue eyes.

Both of our tears were exposed once more, as we looked into one another's souls. Erik's face was twisted in sorrowful agony. I felt more tears well up in my eyes when I saw how tormented he looked. Why him, though? Why did he have to look so tormented? _He_ wasn't the one who was attacked tonight. Was it merely sympathy that he felt? Was the idea of me being harmed torture him so? Did I really mean that much to him?

I felt my sobs rack my body when I saw his tear stained cheeks, and tormented eyes. I had never seen him look so torn apart before. He was in a complete emotional mess, and I couldn't do anything to calm him.

"Clare, let me see," He pleaded desperately in a thick voice. "Let me see. Did he hurt you – Are you injured at all? What did he do?" His words ran together, making him sound hysterical with panic and concern. His eyes drifted to the dark bruises on my ivory skin. The bruises on my upper arms were perfect hand prints.

"Oh, Clare. . ." He breathed out, sounding utterly devastated. "I'm so sorry." He whispered as he gently took my hand into his. I think he meant to tenderly press the palm of my hand against his cheek in a caring manner, but I cried out in pain once he touched my hand. Erik instantly froze upon my cry, and he carefully loosened his grip slightly.

My hand throbbed in pain, especially along my knuckles. I instantly remembered that it ached because that was where I had punched Buquet. I had hit him with all of my strength, yet I never felt any pain because of the fear that had clouded my mind, and clenched onto my heart.

Erik looked down at my hand that was still curled in loose fist.

"Is your hand injured?" He asked as he met my glassy eyes with his own concerned ones.

I pressed my lips into a straight line, trying to keep my sobs under control. I numbly nodded my head, still feeling tears streaking down, and leaving moist trails on my cheeks. Erik's eyes softened with a sympathetic or pitiful look. His anger that had lingered in his eyes melted away.

"Clare, let me see." Erik said tenderly, in a low and surprisingly even tone. His voice sounded so sweet and velvet. If my mind hadn't been so focused and haunted by everything that had just occurred, I would have been swooning over his voice. Although it felt as though nothing could sooth me at that moment, I desperately yearned for comfort. I wanted ease in my heart and mind, but my mind was haunted by my darkest dreads, forcing my fear to invade my heart, restlessly.

I didn't want Erik to touch my swollen hand, but I reluctantly allowed him to observe it. I held my breath as he held my arm out in the dark until his eyes fixed onto my hand. I wasn't sure how he would be able to even see my hand in the dark until it quickly occurred to me that he had excellent sight.

Only with the help of a nearby lit torch was I able to see, faintly. The dim glow reached out and touched my skin, tracing the form of my hand. The flames glow from afar found Erik's hands, revealing the outline. The glowing layers coated Erik's black leather gloves, making his gloves shine.

With my hand in his, Erik turned my hand, studying every little inch of my hand. My hand throbbed in his soft and gentle grip. Erik stopped to examine my knuckles, and it was then that I faintly made out a bruise forming along my knuckles through the dim lighting.

"Can you move your fingers at all?" He asked in a soft tone.

I did my best to ignore the throbbing, as I slowly uncurled my stiff fingers. My fingers ached horribly as I stretched them out, but I was glad to see that I could at least move them without too much pain. Erik sounded a little relieved as well.

"It doesn't look like you broke anything. . .You only have bad bruising." He mused as he examined the dark bruises on my ivory skin.

Through the somber shadows, I could faintly see the details in Erik's face. With a torch lit a ways behind Erik's dark form, the flickering dim light reached him, revealing his silhouette. The light found the curves and creases in his mask, and faintly made his deep blue eyes glow through the shadows. It almost felt like an illusion until Erik's gave found mine. I wasn't sure if I felt breathless from my sobs, or in awe of him.

"Clare, I saw that you also hit your head. Are you alright?" Erik continued to hold my hand in one hand, while his free hand slipped to the back of my head. He gently caressed my head in an almost affectionate manner. Through my tears, I felt my eyes slip shut, beginning to feel a little relieved, yet dazed all at once. . .I quickly found myself relishing the feeling of his contact.

My head still throbbed under his touch, but I couldn't help but feel dazzled by the way he held me. I felt short of breath, and I began to wonder if he realized just how much his tender actions made my heart ache longingly. I somehow remembered to nod through my confused head. I wasn't sure if I was confused after hitting my head, or it Erik was putting me under a spell.

As though he had suddenly realized that I was being dragged into a spell, he flinched away from me as if he had been struck. Once his touch left completely, my clear senses slowly returned. Erik looked like he had a guilty conscience for regret for a moment. He casted his eyes away from mine with a small hint of perhaps horror, but more so regret glinting in his pained eyes.

Now that I had a more clear head, my earlier thoughts resurfaced in my mind. Once the thoughts returned to haunt my mind, I felt guilt gnaw at my stomach. Those dreadful tears stun my red eyes once more. I averted my eyes to the ground, not daring to cross glances with Erik. Wrapping my arms around my body, I tried to keep my sobs under control.

_Stop crying._ I told myself. _He doesn't need to be anymore concerned than he already is. Get a hold of yourself._

I tried to bite back my trembling lip, but it gave me away.

"Clare. . .Are you alright?" He asked softly in a pained tone.

I wanted to reassure him that I was fine, but I knew that I wasn't. I wasn't feeling fine in my frantic, panicked mind. My fearful heart wasn't calm. I knew that I wouldn't' feel alright for quite a while, and I think Erik knew that too.

"N-No." I barely managed to force out the words that stuck in my throat. I felt my lips twist into a frown – one that I had been fighting this whole time, and more tears spilled down my cheeks.

Erik's eyes softened once more, before he stepped closer. His boots thumped on the ground and suddenly, he pulled me into his arms. I was shocked by his action, but I went ahead and buried my face against his dark brown vest, before I broke down completely.

. . .

**That's the end of this chapter!**

**AHH, drama! But what story doesn't have drama? Every story needs some type of problem in order for it to be a story, after all.**

**Not only do I personally feel bad for Clare, but I feel bad for Erik too! What do you guys think? Share your thoughts of it through reviews! Please? *Puppy eyes* You can hug Erik if you review!**


	34. All I Need

**Hey guys!**

**Thank you for the awesome reviews! Love them all - and Erik get's 15 hugs!**

**Erik: No no no! *Trying to run away***

**Me: You can't escape from us Phan-girls! Mwhaha!**

**Well, any-hoo, I'm naming this chapter after the song ****_All I Need_**** by ****_Within Temptation_****.**

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, or Within Temptation. I only own my OC Clare!**

**Enjoy!**

**. . .**

I was desperately yearning for comfort – this was what I wanted. I wanted to stay wrapped in his arms. I wanted to melt and drown in his arms. Perhaps then I could drown in _soothing_ waves, and fall under. Perhaps I could forget for a little while. . .

My arms were still wrapped around myself. I would have looped my own arms around him, but Erik held me so close to him, that I could do nothing but burrow my face against his chest. He kept me wrapped tightly in his warm arms as I wept. He gently tucked my head under his chin.

"Shh. . ." He hushed, tenderly. My body shook with sobs beneath his arms.

"I-I'm sorry." I said in-between my sobs. My sobs showed very little mercy, only allowing me to take shallow breaths. Through the short breaths, I somehow managed to recognize the candle wax and rose scent that was layered thickly on him.

"Sorry?" He asked baffled. "Why?"

"B-Because this is all my fault." I barely managed to get out.

"It's not your fault. . ." He said in a low tone after a short pause.

"Yes it is," I snapped quickly. "I-I was stupid. I never should have left. It was my fault. And because of me, you were forced to murder Buquet because I wasn't smart enough to have simply stayed here. If I had stayed, I never would have run into him. I'm so sorry." I whispered, fighting my trembling voice. I could only manage a whisper. I closed my eyes, dreading to hear what he would say. I felt more tears slip from my eyes and soak into his vest.

_I'm so sorry._ My mind moaned. _I'm so sorry that this all happened._

"Clare. . ." Erik said in disbelief. "It is not all your fault. Buquet's intentions were not part of your doing. Do not blame yourself for Buquet's sick twisted mind. . ." Erik, to my dismay, loosened our embrace, though he made sure to keep one arm wrapped around me. His soft free hand, gently grabbed my chin. My breath hitched in my throat as he tipped my head back until our eyes met.

My heart pounded to be so close. He was right there – so close, and I couldn't have him! I wasn't sure whether he was trying to tease me, or if he was merely attempting to get my attention so he could get his point across. . .Either way, it worked. We were so close that I could feel his breath gently graze my face. Right then, I swore that my heart had stopped. By the time my heart had recovered, it went in over-drive. It felt as though Erik could hear my pounding heart.

_Kiss me._ I thought. _Kiss me right now. Kiss away my fears. . .Promise me that you'll kiss and hug me forever. Promise me that you'll love me forever. . .You're all I have, and I've always loved you. . ._

Right as I was about to lean in and allow my eyes to slip shut, his voice stopped me.

"Clare, I promised you that I would protect you from him. I did what I had to. Just don't forget that it was _his_ fault for deciding to come after you. Not yours. It was his fault. . ." He whispered in his velvet voice.

I snapped back into reality, realizing what had almost occurred. . .I almost kissed him. He deserved it and more for saving my life once again, but all of my courage to kiss him shrank, and coward away deep within myself. I wanted to wrap my arms around his neck and press my lips against his. . .But I couldn't. I just _couldn't._ . .I felt my heart sink. He loved Christine. He always had. . .His heart only belonged to her. It wasn't anything like Erik to simply fall in love with someone else. His heart would always belong to her.

Erik looked down at me with serious and concerned eyes.

"I couldn't let him hurt my only friend. . ." He whispered again.

Erik's eyes were filled with unbelievable pain. His eyes remained dark, silently grasping tears. It felt as though he was holding me with merely his gaze. I felt drawn in with an unknown force. It felt a little like a spell. His face lingered so incredibly close that I all together held my breath, waiting to see what he would do. Suspense built up around me like wild fire, but I could merely remain frozen. I couldn't move, even if I wanted to. My body was stubborn, too fixated to even begin thinking about moving.

With the two of us frozen, searching one another's eyes, Erik was the first to move. He was the first to move, not quite in the way my mind had leapt to. Indeed, he leaned in, but our gaze was fractured. Instead, I found that my eyes were leveled to his chest. It was then that I felt something very soft, gently press onto the top of my forehead.

It was then that I understood that Erik's lips were at my skin. He was _kissing_ my forehead.

I felt utterly shocked. Frozen. It was not like Erik to get so close. Granit, he had hugged me, but never once had he allowed his lips to linger on my skin, nor with _anyone_ else. He hadn't even done that with Christine. Why would he kiss me?

_It's because he loves you._ My mind whispered.

_No, don't get ahead of yourself._ I scolded. _It could mean nothing. He could merely be trying to comfort you. But you're just a dear friend. . .Never a lover. . .That's saved for Christine. . .Not you._

Through my frantic mind, my breath hitched in my throat. His lips were so, _so_ incredibly soft and. . ._Warm._ People would have imagined him as a cold, lifeless, ghostly _thing._ But no, Erik was a man. And although he was a man, his lips felt inhumanly soft against my forehead. I could only imagine what his lips would have felt against my very own. . ._Surely_, I would have melted if he had truly kissed me.

I allowed Erik to keep his lips touching my forehead for as long as he had wished. I deeply relished the soft pressure of his lips, dreading the moment when he would part. I knew that I would never get an opportunity like this again. I also knew that this was the very first time that Erik's lips had ever touched anyone else's skin. Even though it was merely a kiss on my forehead and not my lips, I knew that this meant _everything_ to Erik.

My heart sank a bit once he pulled away. I heard him release a shuttered breath, and suddenly, a sob escaped from his mouth. Then I could see Erik's face again. His chin trembled as tears over whelmed his dark blue eyes. He looked as though he was ready to collapse into a fit of tears, just for me allowing him to kiss my forehead.

This moment in particular tugged a string to my heart. I had never had tears spring to my eyes so quickly from just distress and torment. His hands dropped to my shoulders, and his upper body slumped forward. Astonished, I pulled him close, and his frame quivered in my arms. He buried his eyes against my bare shoulder, and I felt his tears touch my skin. I held him close as he wept.

. . .

_You wouldn't understand. . ._

I hastily scribbled down the words, not caring whether it looked messy or not.

_Erik saved me. The Opera Ghost – the __**Phantom**__! He saved me again for the millionth time! I'm sure that none of you would have able to understand just why a masked murderer would save me. I'm just about positive that you would laugh if I told you this in person. But it's true. I know that you think that he's a heartless beast, but you are mistaken. You simply haven't seen past his shell – past his true mask. Erik is merely a tortured soul. Don't let his mask fool you, though._

_Now I will admit, he has killed before, but only out of self defense – well, according to the novels, he started out killing out of self defense. Right about now in the novels, Erik's mercy for others would have begun to wither. Although from my own observation, Erik's attention has begun to drift away from Christine and Raoul. He seems so much different now. . ._

_Yes, I know, he has a raging anger issue, but don't let a stubborn temper ruin a good impression of him. Yes, I know that he didn't have a very good first impression on me, but you have to understand, he is still the same man who pulled me from the water - he is still the same man who lifted me from a collapsing rafter – he is still the same man who saved me from Buquet. So don't you dare say that he's a terrible man. I see good in him. . .I love him. . ._

_Not only had he saved my life when I was in danger, but he did event eh smallest things to make me happy._

_First off, he allowed me to stay in his home as though it were my own – he didn't need to do that. He could have merely kicked me out, but no, he allowed me to stay – he __**welcomed**__ me to stay._

_Second, he gave me clothes to wear, and he even gave me paper and pen to write these quirky letters of mine to you. But of course, he doesn't know about these letters. . ._

_I desperately wish that I could give him something in return, but unfortunately I don't posses any money to buy anything for him. All I can do is show him kindness and he gladly accepts it and returns it. I've never felt so close to someone in such a short amount of time. . .And. . .I've never had someone appreciate my kindness so much. In a way, it relieves me greatly, and it makes me nearly shine with happiness not to have my kindness taken for granite. I've never seen anyone so grateful for such little things. Although, then again, I can only give little things, but there is still one big thing that could give._

_My heart. _

_Although that's the biggest thing I could give, I'm afraid that he would reject it. I offered it the night I kissed his masked cheek, although I'm not sure whether he picked up on it or not. But either way, I left the offer open. . .Opened __**only**__ for him. . ._

"Clare?"

**. . .**

**Gosh, I apologize for this awkward ending for the chapter. I originally planned the first part to have gone with the last chapter, but it was too much for me to fit for just one chapter. . .Or at least my original idea was too much to fit for one chapter. It ended up that it ****_would_**** have fit perfectly fine, except then I would be updating late. . .**

**This chapter, and the next one, are going to be chopped up oddly. Yes, I know that you all want the brooding sob story part to finally end! I know, I know, just understand that it's being dragged out for another odd chapter, so that I can manage to update on time. Originally, this all would have been in maybe one or two chapters. . .Not three. . .But last minute decisions occurred, and I need some time to think through my up-coming chapters.**

**Well, any-hoo, what do you guys think?**

**Erik ****_kissed_**** Clare's forehead! Do you have any idea how much this means to Erik? Those who have read the novels probably understand what I'm getting at. But what do you guys think? Share what you all think through reviews! One review equals a hug for Erik!**

**Thanks for reading!**


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